


What Is and What Should Never Be

by OpenPage



Category: 21 Jump Street (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Child Abuse, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Prostitution, Rape, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-04 23:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 34
Words: 65,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpenPage/pseuds/OpenPage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU fic where Doug and Tom McQuaid really are teenage brothers.</p><p>Tom McQuaid suffers abuse at the hands of his father.  When his brother Doug is no longer there to protect him, Tom becomes a teenage runaway, living on the streets in an unfamiliar city.  Another runaway, Dennis Booker, quickly befriends him and together the two boys battle to survive on the mean streets of “anywhere USA.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Being a McQuaid

[**Being a McQuaid**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=1) 

It was the sound of Tom’s screaming that woke Doug from a deep sleep.  Falling from the bed, he ran into the hallway and to the bedroom next door.  Before he even tried the door handle, he knew that it would be locked.  Fear gripped at his heart as he began pounding on the door. _Why didn’t I stay with him?_ he mentally berated himself, as he frantically attempted to beat down the door.

“Don’t... please... please Dad... _STOP!”_ Tom screamed, his voice high pitched in terror.

Doug began ramming his shoulder into the door.  “Stop hurting him you BASTARD!” he yelled, “I’ll fucking _kill_ you!”

Ignoring the pain in his body, he continued his onslaught, all the while knowing it was futile.  The door was solid wood and even though he was large for a seventeen year old, he did not have the physical strength to break down the door.  Sobbing in frustration, he collapsed to the floor as he persistently banged on the wood with his fist.  Tom was now silent; the only sound Doug could hear was a soft grunting that came from his father.  Within minutes a loud, satisfied, _Fuck yeah_ could be heard and then silence.

The door that Doug had been sitting against opened so suddenly that he fell into the room in a heap.  His father laughed mockingly as he kicked out viciously with his foot, connecting with Doug’s ribs.  “Get him cleaned up and get to school,” his father growled and stepping over his winded eldest son, he sauntered downstairs.

Rubbing his chest, Doug scrambled to his feet, his eyes desperately searching the messy room.  He eventually saw his younger brother naked and crouching in a corner, his arms wrapped tightly around his bent knees.  A bruise was already beginning to form around his left eye and blood trickled from his nose.  Tears stained his beautiful face but Tom remained eerily silent.  Grabbing a sheet off the bed, Doug moved slowly as he sat down next to his traumatized sibling.  “Hey Tommy,” he said gently as he wrapped the linen around Tom’s shaking body, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

Thomas McQuaid had been the victim of his father’s sexual abuse since the age of eleven.  Now fifteen, he was slight in stature, looking much younger than his years.   He was the image of the boys’ dead mother, pretty and petite; which was probably why their father did the unspeakable things that he did.  Neither brother was a physical match against their six-foot parent but that did not mean that they did not try.  Doug endeavored to protect his brother from the sexual violence but there were times when he foolishly let his guard down.  Like the night before.  They had come home late to an empty house and having wrongfully assumed that they would be safely at school by the time their drunken father staggered home, they had slept in their own rooms.  Both had been desperate for a good night’s sleep, having spent the previous two nights sleeping rough in an attempt to avoid their father’s brutal temper.  They had only moved to the neighborhood a week before, having lost their previous home for not paying the rent.  The move had put them into a new school district and today was to be their first day.  Given the circumstances, Doug wondered briefly if it would be better to play truant.  But knowing his father’s temper, he decided again it.  As much as they both hated school, it at least offered them a safe haven for seven hours of the day.

Helping Tom to his feet, Doug escorted him to the bathroom.  Closing and locking the door, he sat a silent Tom down onto the closed toilet seat and set the faucets on the shower to as hot a temperature as was bearable.  “Okay Tommy,” he said quietly.

When Tom made no effort to move, Doug squatted down next to his brother and gently lifted his bowed head.  “Hey Tom, you need to take a shower.”

Tom’s eyes stared off into space, as though lost in a dream.  Doug knew the signs.  Tom’s mind had taken itself elsewhere as a coping mechanism to the abuse.  With a sigh, he left his brother sitting and undressing, he stepped into the shower himself.  Emerging ten minutes later, he saw that Tom’s eyes now appeared fully focused.  Grabbing a towel, Doug wrapped it around his waist.  “Your turn,” he said tenderly.

Tom stood up and dropping the sheet that had covered his nakedness, he revealed a body covered in welts and bruises of various shades and sizes.  He walked into the shower and it was forty-five minutes before he emerged dripping from the steaming cubical.  Having taken Tom’s place on the closed toilet, Doug handed him a towel and waited as he dried off.  Giving Tom his toothbrush, he said, “I’m just gonna check…” before his voice trailed off.  He did not need to finish the sentence, as Tom knew exactly what he was going to check.  Doug poked his head cautiously out of the bathroom door, a waft of steam followed him as he tiptoed down the hallway and stopped outside of the last bedroom door.  Pressing his ear to the wood, he heard a soft snoring from behind the closed door.  With a sigh of relief, he hurried back to the bathroom.  “He’s asleep.  C’mon, we need to dress and get out before he wakes up.”

Both boys moved silently down the hallway and into Tom’s room.  Doug waited as his brother dressed, the familiar bandanna tied firmly around his wet hair.  Once finished, they crept to Doug’s bedroom and the elder McQuaid brother quickly dressed in the cleanest clothes he could find.  Treading softly, they moved downstairs.  Doug opened the refrigerator, then the pantry and after a cursory glance in both, he reluctantly concluded that they would have to forgo breakfast.  Grabbing their school bags, they walked out of the house, softly closing the door behind them.

**

Sitting in the Principal’s office, both boys felt uncomfortably conspicuous.  They were well aware that their dirty, worn clothing screamed poverty.  A target for bullies since Elementary School, when their mother had suddenly passed away from a brain aneurysm, they had deflected the taunts of their fellow students by building up tough exteriors.  It did not take long for most pupils to become terrified of the McQuaid brothers, especially of Doug, who was fiercely protective of his younger brother.  Known for their street smarts and formidable fighting abilities, most of their fellow classmates gave them a wide birth unless they were looking to score drugs or alcohol.  It had been a well-known fact in their last school that the McQuaids could get you whatever you wanted, as long as you had the money to buy.  No one wanted to owe either a boy a dime, as doing so could easily cost you a broken limb.

With a hint of distaste, Principal Elizabeth Hammond glared at the newest charges to her school.  Both boys sat sullenly staring off into space.  With a loud, disgruntled sigh, she addressed the younger of the two students, “Thomas McQuaid, in future I expect you to come to school without visible bruising.  Fighting is not tolerated in my school, do you understand?”

Doug’s fists clenched in anger as Tom muttered a barely audible, “Yes’m.”

“Speak up!” Principal Hammond instructed impatiently.

“Yes _MA’AM!”_ Tom barked, his eyes blazing with unbridled hatred.

Closing the folder on her desk, Principal Hammond stood up, her demeanor terse.  “I’ll have no cheek from you, _Mister_ McQuaid.  I run a tight ship at this school and if I hear any talk about you boys misbehaving, I will expel you both, no questions asked.  Am I making myself understood?”

Doug stood up and stared at the Principal with unconcealed loathing.  “Perfectly,” he replied quietly and nudging his brother, both boys walked out.

**

Tom’s last class before lunch was English.  Walking into the classroom, he found a desk at the rear and opening up his notebook, he began to sketch, effectively ignoring the teachings of Adam Fuller who was attempting to regale the class with a reading from J. D. Salinger’s _Catcher in the Rye_.  

“Among other things, you'll find that you're not the first person who was ever confused and frightened and even sickened by human behavior.  You're by no means alone on that score, you'll be excited and _stimulated_ to know.  Many, many men have been just as troubled morally and spiritually as you are right now.  Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You'll learn from them, if you want to.  Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you.  It's a beautiful reciprocal arrangement.  And it isn't education.  It's history.  It's poetry."

Hearing the words, Tom’s hand stilled.  He lifted his head and stared at the teacher.  Seeing at least one interested student, Adam checked his class roll for the name of his newest class member.  “Ah, Thomas McQuaid, I see I have struck a chord with you.  Would you care to share your thoughts on what Mr. Antolini is attempting to say to Holden Caulfield.”

Twenty pairs of eyes turned to stare at Tom.  Immediately uncomfortable at being the center of attention, Tom dropped his gaze, as his hands clenched into fists.  Adam Fuller walked to the back of the room and standing next to his newest pupil’s desk he spoke enthusiastically, “I would love to hear what you have to say Thomas, I value my student’s thoughts and interpretations.  That is what makes English such a wonderful subject to teach.  All opinions are valid.”

Lifting his head slightly, Tom murmured softly, “It’s not Thomas, it’s Tom.”

Mr. Fuller smiled broadly.  “Pleased to meet you Tom, I’m Adam Fuller.”  Looking down, he spied Tom’s artwork.  “A budding Rembrandt I see,” he said, his tone impressed as he studied the emerging portrait of his own face.  “But this is English Tom and I would appreciate your full attention during class.”

Tom nodded and quickly closed his sketchbook.  He gave the teacher a half smile that immediately faded when he caught Adam examining his battered face.  He quickly ducked his head, embarrassed at the scrutiny.  Fuller remained silent for several more seconds, before walking away and continuing his recitations.  Tom breathed a grateful sigh and folding his arms on his desk, he rested his chin and half listened to the class’s lively discussion of Salinger’s novel.  When the bell sounded, he grabbed his bag, eager to make his escape and catch up with Doug.  But Fuller called out his name and with a groan, Tom walked over to the teacher’s desk.

Closing his book, Fuller sat on the edge of his desk and gave Tom a friendly smile.  “Have you read Catcher in the Rye?”

Tom shook his head.  He did not possess a love of books, as he struggled beyond a fourth grade reading level.  It was not that he did not want to read, it was just that it now completely overwhelmed him.  More than anything, he wished he had the ability to write a story to accompany his drawings.  But his and Doug’s lives had changed irrevocably when Emma McQuaid had passed away.  Their father transformed almost overnight from a hard working, charming and caring man to a violent, drunken tyrant, the loss of his beloved Em seemingly too much to bear.  Both boys’ education had suffered as a result of their growing neglect and abuse.  Doug, at only eleven years of age, had taken his younger brother under his wing.  He would readily throw himself in their father’s line of fire in an effort to spare Tom a beating.  But when the sexual abuse started, Doug found it increasingly difficult to deflect their father’s growing obsession with Tom.  Increasingly, the boys spent fewer nights at home, preferring to sleep rough in the local park or under the Hamlin Bridge.  

Adam Fuller handed his copy of the book to Tom.  “You’ll need to catch up if you’re going to do well on the midterm.”  Seeing Tom’s reluctance, Adam spoke kindly, “Look, I don’t want you to miss out on your lunch so maybe you could meet me after school for a chat.  Is that okay?”

Tom could not think of a worse scenario.  He preferred to fly under the radar, not have teachers singling him out for special treatment.  Because of his and Doug’s disruptive tendencies, most teachers favored assigning the boys grades they had not earned in preference to having them back in their classroom the following year.  In essence, their academic inadequacies had slipped through the system unnoticed.  Now it appeared Mr. Fuller was about to discover just how illiterate Tom really was.  Of course, he could blow off the meeting but he could not dodge his English teacher forever.  With a resigned sigh, Tom took the offending book.  “Sure Mister F, whatever.”

With a frown creasing his brow, Adam Fuller silently watched Tom as he left the classroom.

**

Sitting alone at an outside table, Doug scowled when he saw Tom.  “Where’ve you been?” he asked irritably, throwing a wrapped sandwich at this brother.  “I’ve been waiting ages.”

Catching the package, Tom sat across from his brother.  “English teacher kept me back, he seems the nosey type.  Where’d you get the food?”

Doug grinned wickedly.  “I dunno, some rich kid over there.  Figured we needed it more than him.  So tell me about this teacher, is he gonna be a problem?”

Ripping hungrily into his sandwich, Tom grinned back happily, his mouth full of food.  “Nah, he wants to see me after school for a chat but don’t worry, it’s under control, I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

Doug stared sadly at his brother.  For most of their lives, they had kept silent about their home life.  Neither boy wanted to consider the alternatives, which would be either state care or a foster home.  Terrified of being split up they endured their father’s wrath so that they could stay together.  It was the old saying, _better the devil you know_.  At least they knew what to expect from their father.

Four boys suddenly surrounded their table, pulling Doug from his reflections.  “Hey McQuaid,” the largest of the four addressed Tom.  “Nice hat.”

“It’s a fuckin’ bandana you moron,” Tom spat back, tossing his sandwich wrapper to the ground and wiping his mouth with his sleeve.  

Doug stood up, effectively towering over the tenth graders.  “You got something to say, you say it to me _capeesh?”_

The boy stood his ground, spurred on by his mates.  “ _What?_   Little Tommy can’t fight his own battles?  You don’t scare me McQuaid.  You and your brother are just poor, white trash and you can’t lay a finger on me, ‘cause the minute you do, my Dad’ll sue your worthless ass.”

Tom watched on with a bored expression as Doug leaned over the table and poked the boy in the chest.  “Try it asshole and I’ll break every bone in your fuckin’ body,” he threatened menacingly.

Doubt washed over the boy’s face and he turned to his friends for support, only to find uncertainty and fear on each of their faces.  Laughing loudly to disguise his growing apprehension, the boy clapped one of his friends on the shoulder.  “C’mon fellas, they ain’t worth it.”  The group hurried away, each one hoping against hope that no one had witnessed their dismal attempt at a showdown.  

Tom stood up and reaching down, he picked up his discarded wrapper and threw it into a nearby trashcan.  “Well, that was bracing,” he said sarcastically as he wiped his hands on his worn jeans.

Doug did not return Tom’s amused look.  He was tired of always being the outcast, no matter where they went to school.  Neither boy had friends, their only companionship was with each other.  Doug loved Tom with all his heart but he was envious of his peers.  _He_ wanted invitations to parties like other teenagers his age.   _He_ wanted to hang out at the mall in a group, wolf whistling at the girls who walked by.   _He_ wanted to play pinball in the arcade whilst his mates cheered him on.  He knew Tom must feel some of what he felt but his brother’s personality was more reserved, probably due to the abuse and he seemed generally happy to have just Doug as his friend.  Shaking his head slightly, Doug pulled himself together.  It did no good to wish.  Their life was what it was, end of story.  Wishing for it to be different only caused more heartache.

A bell signaled the end of lunch.  Walking towards the main building, Doug grabbed Tom’s arm, holding him back.  Tom stared back quizzically, aware that something was troubling his older brother.  “What is it?” he asked as noisy teenagers pushed past them.

“Just be careful of this teacher,” Doug muttered in Tom’s ear.  “We don’t want the authorities on our case.”

Tom nodded.  As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Meet me in the park after school and get beer.”

Doug raised a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the crowd.

 


	2. Losing a McQuaid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _“Just be careful of this teacher,” Doug muttered in Tom’s ear.  “We don’t want the authorities on our case.”_
> 
> _Tom nodded.  As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, “Meet me in the park after school and get beer.”_
> 
> _Doug raised a hand in acknowledgement and disappeared into the crowd._   
> 

**Losing a McQuaid**  

Tom managed to remain invisible to his educators for the remainder of the school day.  His teachers either ignored him or were unaware of his presence.  As the final bell sounded, he picked up his bag and headed for Fuller's classroom.  He knocked softly on the door and receiving an invite, he walked in.  

Adam Fuller rose from his desk and indicated for Tom to take a seat at the front of the room.  Sitting down, Tom eyed Adam warily as he reached into a battered briefcase and pulled out what appeared to be a children's book.  Tom's face immediately reddened and he stood up so violently, his chair crashed to the ground.  "What the _fuck_ is that?" he yelled, "Do you think I'm some kind of retard?"

Surprised at the ferocity of Tom's anger, Adam put both hands up, his tone soothing, "Whoa Tom, calm down.  I'm not here to embarrass you, I'm here to help you.  Come on son, sit down and let's talk about this."

At the use of the word son, Tom's eyes filled with tears.  Horrified at displaying emotion to a teacher, Tom quickly pushed the heels of hands against his eyes to stem the flow.  _Shit! Shit! Shit!_ he thought, _Doug's gonna kill me._   Pulling himself together, he dropped his hands and swiped at his nose with his shirtsleeve.  Adam Fuller sat on the edge of his desk, patiently waiting for his young charge to gain his composure.  Tom remained standing.  "You think I can't read," he stated angrily.

"Can you?" Fuller asked, his tone gentle but persistent.  He had known Tom less than an hour but in that short space of time he felt compelled to help the boy in whatever way possible.  He suspected parental abuse, the blackened eye and dirty clothes were a telltale sign.  He had questioned some of the teachers in the teacher's lounge but most were either disinterested or having only seen Tom during one lesson, were unwilling to pass judgment.  He had also approached the Principal but she refused to divulge any information in either Tom or Doug's file.  Frustrated and feeling ill equipped to deal with such a delicate matter, he had made an appointment to talk to the school counselor.  Unfortunately, that appointment was not until the following day.  Sensing the need to act quickly, he had made the decision to speak to Tom anyway.  Now it appeared that his decision might have been the wrong one.  

Tom's eyes glared back defiantly.  "Sure I can." 

"Then prove it," Fuller replied softly as he handed the children's book to Tom.

For a moment, Tom refused to take the book, but with a dutiful sigh, he snatched the paperback out of his teacher's hand.   Sitting down, he opened the pages and slowly began to read, his voice trembling slightly as he stumbled over the unfamiliar words, "Wh-where's Papa go… going with that a… a… ax? said Fern to her moth… moth… mother as they w-were set.. setting the ta…ta…table for br—"

Adam laid a hand on Tom's arm, effectively cutting him off.  Tom instinctively flinched away from the contact.  Bowing his head with shame he mumbled, "You're right, I am a retard."

Fuller sat down at the desk next to Tom.  "Being illiterate has nothing to do with intelligence Tom," he replied, his tone gentle and kind.  "All it means is that you've been left behind.  I have no doubt that with extra lessons you will soon be up to speed with your classmates."

Tom looked up shyly, his brown eyes peering through his long, unruly bangs.  "Do you really think I could read good if I took extra lessons?" he asked disbelievingly.

Fuller smiled, "Read well and yes, I really do.  Would you like me to organize it for you?"  

When Tom smiled back, his whole demeanor changed.  No longer the sullen, streetwise bully he became a fresh faced fifteen year old.  "Yeah, cool."

"Okay then," Fuller replied, pleased that Tom had accepted his offer.  "We start tomorrow after school."

Tom nodded his agreement and left the classroom.  For the first time since he could remember, he felt truly happy.

**

Sitting cross-legged on a wooden picnic table, Tom waited patiently for Doug to meet him at the park. As the sun slowly began to disappear beneath the horizon, the air became unseasonably chilly. Climbing off the table, he began to anxiously pace up and down, each passing minute causing him to feel more concern for his missing brother. Not being of legal age to buy beer or having the required funds to do so, Tom knew that Doug was going to steal it. As night fell, panic squeezed at his chest. When a light drizzling rain began to fall, he climbed up the ladder to the top of the enclosed play tower. The drizzle soon turned into a drenching downpour and he huddled alone, his body shaking from the cold. As the hours passed, Tom desperately hoped that Doug was sheltering from the rain and not sitting in a police cell having been caught shoplifting. A tear silently trickled down his flawless skin as he brooded over how shit his life was. Closing his eyes, he allowed his imagination to take hold and he fantasized about how different his life would be had his mother remained alive. He pictured home cooked meals, where the four of them would sit around the dining table and talk about their day. He visualized his mother’s calm, peaceful face watching over him with pride as he did his homework. A sob caught in his throat and he broke down completely, allowing the tears to freely course down his cheeks as self-pity over whelmed him. Weariness slowly enveloped his aching body and using his school bag as a pillow, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

**

A cacophony of bird sounds pulled Tom from a light slumber.  Yawning loudly, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  The rain from the previous night was a distant memory as the rising sun shone brightly from the east.  His stomach growled from hunger and picking up his bag, he forced his cramped legs to descend the play tower ladder.  After washing his face and hands in the fountain, he drank thirstily, allowing the water to fill the dull ache in his belly.  He paused for a moment, deliberating on what would be the best course of action.  If he went home there was a possibility his father would be there and that was something Tom did not feel able to deal with alone.  Going to school was really his only option.  

With a sigh, he threw his bag over his shoulder and left the park.  He arrived at Riverdale High too early to start classes.  He sat in the outdoor lunch area until students started drifting through from the car park.  As the bell rang, he made his way through the thickening crowd, acutely aware of the finger pointing and comments regarding his disheveled appearance.  As he stood at his locker, he heard a woman behind him clear her throat.  Turning around, he saw Principal Hammond, her face pinched into a look of firm disapproval.  "My office _Mister_ McQuaid," she instructed, through clenched teeth.

 _Perfect_ , Tom thought as he slammed his locker closed.  Bowing his head, he followed the head teacher down the teeming hallway and into her office.  He stopped abruptly when he saw his father sitting on a chair, his stubbled face as black as thunder.  

"Take a seat Thomas," Elizabeth Hammond barked, her tone officious.  Shaking uncontrollably, Tom sat on the chair next to Aaron McQuaid.  His body shrank into itself and he immediately appeared smaller and more vulnerable than previously.  He could hear his father's heavy breathing next to him but he kept his eyes downcast, too afraid to meet his father's enraged glare.

"So," Principal Hammond declared in a shrill voice, "It appears your brother _Douglas_ was arrested last night for larceny.  As I told you yesterday Thomas, I will not stand for any type of unruly behavior from a student at this school.  Your father is here to take you home, you are expelled from Riverdale High School effective immediately."

Standing, Aaron McQuaid reached over and shook the Principal's hand.  "Thank you for your hospitality this morning, I apologize on behalf of my sons."

Taken in by Aaron's good looks and false charm, Principal Hammond blushed like an over hormonal schoolgirl.  "I'm sorry that I have to be so harsh on your children Mr. McQuaid but rules are rules.  I suspect both boys would benefit from a little discipline."

Placing a large, callused hand on the back of Tom's slim neck, Aaron lifted him to his feet.  "Believe me Ms. Hammond, I was thinking _exactly_ the same thing."  With his hand still firmly placed, Aaron McQuaid roughly pushed his youngest son ahead of him as he exited the room.  

As they left the school grounds, Tom found the courage to speak, "Where's Doug?" he asked quietly, not wanting to irritate his father further by demanding answers in a loud tone.  

"Exactly where he should be," his father retorted smugly, "Juvenile detention."

Tom inhaled loudly, as panic surged through his body.  "For how long?" he dared to ask, expecting a clip around the ear at any moment for his insolence.

Tom's father smiled evilly.  "Six months.  So from now on _Tommy_ , it's just you and me.  There's no more Doug to protect you so you'd better do as I say, understand?"

Choking back a sob, Tom nodded as tears filled his brown eyes.  There was not a thing he could do, he was now completely alone and at the mercy of a monster.

 


	3. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS INCEST AND THE RAPE AND BEATING OF A TEENAGER.  ALTHOUGH NOT OVERLY GRAPHIC, IT MAY BE UPSETTING TO SOME READERS.**
> 
> _Previously: As they left the school grounds, Tom found the courage to speak, “Where’s Doug?” he asked quietly, not wanting to irritate his father further by demanding answers in a loud tone._
> 
> _“Exactly where he should be,” his father retorted smugly, “Juvenile detention.”_
> 
> _Tom inhaled loudly, as panic surged through his body.  “For how long?” he dared to ask, expecting a clip around the ear at any moment for his insolence._
> 
> _Tom’s father smiled evilly.  “Six months.  So from now on Tommy, it’s just you and me.  There’s no more Doug to protect you so you’d better do as I say, understand?”_
> 
> _Choking back a sob, Tom nodded as tears filled his brown eyes.  There was not a thing he could do, he was now completely alone and at the mercy of a monster._

[**Aftermath**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=3) 

Upon entering the house, Aaron McQuaid shoved his son roughly towards the stairs.  “Get up there,” he snarled, “and stay in your room.”

Dragging his feet, Tom slowly climbed the threadbare steps.  The despair he felt was all consuming, what hope did he have now?  He briefly considered saying something to his English teacher but he quickly pushed the thought away.  If the school notified the authorities, Tom knew that a placement into care would be inevitable and when Doug’s sentence was up, they would have no chance of being together.  He just had to find a way to stick it out for the six months his brother was in custody.  

Sighing heavily, he threw his school bag onto the floor.  The book Mr. Fuller had given him fell out and Tom felt more tears prick against his eyes.  Bending down, he picked up the worn tome and opened it to a random page.  The words swam in front of him as his grief intensified.  His new teacher had been so kind and understanding, traits that were unfamiliar to Tom.  He gently trailed his fingers over the page as if to gain strength from the words he could not read.  His body stiffened as he heard the familiar creaking of the stairs behind him.  His father was coming.

When Aaron walked into the bedroom and saw Tom holding a book, he snorted loudly.  “What the hell are _you_ doing with a book boy?  You’re too damn stupid to read.”  His tone was derisive, causing Tom to let the book slip from his fingers and onto the floor.

“There’s gonna be some new rules in this house now that your meddling brother is out of the way,” McQuaid senior sneered, as he slowly and deliberately, pulled his belt free from the loops on his jeans.  “Now, lesson number one.  You will do _what_ I say _when_ I say, is that clear?”

Tom nodded, his wide eyes never leaving the belt which his father now held in his hand.

The next word out of his father’s mouth was a single command.  “Strip.”

Shaking uncontrollably, Tom pulled the bandanna from his head.  He slowly removed his torn denim waistcoat and his shirt.  He hesitated for a moment before pulling his t-shirt over his head, revealing half-healed welts and bruising on his back.  He stood with his eyes closed, holding his breath and praying that a beating was all he would receive.  

“Everything,” his father instructed, his voice heavy with arousal.

“Dad, please,” Tom begged, his eyes pleading with his father.  “I’ll be good, I promise, just don’t do _that_ , okay?  I’ll take the beating, just don’t–“

Tom felt a resounding sting on his cheek as his father backhanded him across the face.  “Lesson number two, do… not… _EVER!_ talk back to me.” Aaron spat, his face twisted in anger.

Choking back a sob, Tom kicked off his boots, all the while feeling his father’s hot gaze upon him.  Pulling off his socks, he slowly unbuttoned his jeans and pulling down the zipper, he let the fabric fall to the floor.  Stepping out of his denims, he felt vulnerable dressed only in his boxers.  He saw his father lick his lips and he felt bile rise in his throat.  As his father’s eyes narrowed in warning, Tom hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them off. 

“Turn around,” Aaron ordered, the belt in his hand twitching in anticipation.

Tom did as he was told.  Turning his back to his father, he clenched his fists as he waited for the excruciating pain of the belt cutting through his tender skin.

 _THWACK!_   The belt bit deep into his back, opening up an old wound.  As it hit for a second time, Tom felt a warm trickle of blood run down his back as he began to bleed.  The third strike made him cry out, the pain almost too much to bear.  

Tom’s suffering only managed to fuel Aaron’s sadistic pleasure.  As the whipping intensified, he yelled abuse at his youngest son, “YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFY ME?”  _THWACK!_   “YOU’RE NOTHING BUT A…”  _THWACK!_    “WORTHLESS…”  _THWACK!_   “PIECE OF…” _THWACK!_   “SHIT!”  _THWACK!_

Tom’s vision swam and he staggered on his feet.  His father’s voice sounded distant, the words barely audible.  Sweat beaded on his forehead as his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor in a faint.  As he slowly regained consciousness, he felt a heaviness pushing against his body.  As realization hit, he began to panic and he frantically struggled against the rape his father was committing.  

“Stop it,” his father growled, as he thrust deep into his resisting son, his fingers tangled cruelly in Tom’s hair, “I’m… almost… done… _FUUCK!”_   As his orgasm hit Aaron’s body shuddered against Tom’s.  Spent, he collapsed heavily onto his son, enjoying the aftermath of his release.  After several minutes, he stood up and pulling up his trousers, he walked to the door.  Turning back, he stared dispassionately at his broken and bloody son who lay motionless on the floor.  “Get cleaned up, you look like shit,” he muttered before leaving the room.

Moaning in pain, Tom crawled across the room and pulled himself onto the bed.  Despite the discomfort, he drew his legs up to his chest and curled protectively into the fetal position as tears silently coursed down his cheeks.  He wanted Doug’s comfort more than anything in the world, he had never had to suffer alone before and it was soul destroying knowing that for the next six months, this was how it was to be.  As his tears slowly subsided, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sat up.  Blood and semen had stained his sheets, making him feel sick.  He carefully stood up, using the nightstand as support.  Wrapping the ruined sheet around him, he shuffled from his room and down the hallway to the bathroom.  Locking the door, he slowly moved to the full-length mirror and studied his injuries.  His right cheek was bright red from his father’s hand.  Turning around, he peered over his shoulder.  Large, red, bleeding welts covered his back and buttocks, several of the cuts so deep that small strips of skin hung from the wounds.  Once again vomit rose in his throat but he quickly swallowed in down.  Hobbling over to the shower, he turned the hot faucet on full and added just a small amount of cold to the mix.  Shrugging off the bloodied sheet, he stepped into the steaming shower, crying out as the heat hit his damaged skin.  Placing his palms against the tiled wall, he bowed his head and allowed the scalding water to run over his aching body.  His mind shut off completely as the therapeutic water cleansed his wounds and washed away his humiliation.  Weariness flooded through his body and he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep and never wake up.  For a fraction of a second, his mind turned to suicide.  But as quickly as it came, the thought was gone.  He could never do that to Doug.

Turning off the faucets, he exited the cubical.  Carefully dabbing at his body, the towel came away bloody.  With a sigh, he dried off as best he could and wrapping the bed sheet around him, he walked back to his bedroom.  Sitting on the bed, he looked at the clock.  It was a little after midday.  As if suddenly acknowledging the fact, his stomach growled with hunger.  His last meal had been the sandwich Doug had swiped the day before.  Moving carefully, he dressed in t-shirt and jeans.  Leaving his room, he tiptoed to the edge of the stairs.  Pausing, he could hear the television and his father’s occasional laugh as he watched some lowbrow comedy.  Treading carefully to avoid any squeaky floorboards, he stole silently into his father’s bedroom.  His eyes darted back and forth until they finally settled on what he was looking for.  Picking up Aaron’s wallet, he opened it and took out every dollar inside.  He would get a beating for sure but he would probably get one anyway so in Tom’s mind it was worth it.  Putting the empty wallet back on the nightstand he walked back to his room and closed the door.  His plan had been to climb out of the window and walk into town to get something to eat.  But as he stared at the bills in his hand, another thought formed in his mind.  He had enough money for a bus ticket.

As adrenaline ran through his body, his pain magically faded.  Moving quickly, he grabbed a bag and began throwing clothes and various necessities into the shabby holdall.  Sneaking back to the bathroom, he took his toothbrush, toothpaste and a comb from the cabinet.  Re-entering his room, he picked up a photo frame containing a photo of he and Doug and threw it into his bag.  Casting his eye around to see if he could spy anything he needed, his gaze landed on _Catcher in the Rye_ and reaching forward, he picked up the battered book.  Smiling, he placed it on top of the frame and closed the bag’s zipper.  

Desperate to get going, he hurriedly put on his shirt, denim waistcoat, socks and boots.  Lastly, he tied his signature bandanna around his head.  Picking up his bag, he walked over to his open window.  Checking that no one was watching, he dropped the bag onto the ground.  It hit with a thud and he held his breath as his ears strained to hear any noise from downstairs.  After several minutes, he climbed onto the window ledge and leaning forward he took hold of a large branch that hung close to his bedroom.  With a grunt, he hoisted himself onto the broad bough.  Being lithe was an advantage and he made light work of scrambling down the gnarled elm.  Snatching his bag, his head snapped left and right and certain that he had not been seen, he sprinted down the road and towards what he hoped would be his freedom.  



	4. Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please remember that this story is set in the 1980s (as per 21 Jump Street).  I have attempted to be as accurate as I can with regards to prices but as I am not American it is really more of an educated guess :)**
> 
> **WARNING: THIS CHAPTERS TOUCHES ON TEENAGE PROSTITUTION, SOME SCENES ARE GRAPHIC IN NATURE.**
> 
>  
> 
> _Previously: As adrenaline ran through his body, his pain magically faded.  Moving quickly, he grabbed a bag and began throwing clothes and various necessities into the shabby holdall.  Sneaking back to the bathroom, he took his toothbrush, toothpaste and a comb from the cabinet.  Re-entering his room, he cast his eye around to see if he could spy anything he needed.  His gaze landed on Catcher in the Rye and reaching forward, he picked up the battered book.  Smiling, he placed it in his bag and closed the zip._
> 
> _Desperate to get going, he hurriedly put on his shirt, denim waistcoat, socks and boots.  Lastly, he tied his signature bandana around his head.  Picking up his bag, he walked over to his open window.  Checking that no one was watching, he dropped the bag onto the ground.  It hit with a thud and he held his breath as his ears strained to hear any noise from downstairs.  After several minutes, he climbed onto the window ledge and leaning forward he took hold of a large branch that hung close to his bedroom.  With a grunt, he hoisted himself onto the broad bough.  Being lithe was an advantage and he made light work of scrambling down the gnarled elm.  Snatching his bag, his head snapped left and right and certain that he had not been seen, he sprinted down the road and to what he hoped would be his freedom._

[**Lessons**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=4) 

Sitting on a Greyhound bus, Tom rested his head against the window and mindlessly watched as the scenery changed from built up housing to green country fields and back again.  After purchasing his ticket, he had enough money left over to buy a sandwich and a can of coke from the station kiosk.  Predictably, the sandwich had been dry but he wolfed it down anyway, his stomach appreciating the meager offering.  Now, five hours later, he was hungry again.  With a heavy sigh, he pulled his watch out of his pocket.  The strap had broken years before but he had kept the working timepiece.  It had been his grandfather’s; his mother’s father; and for that reason the sentimental value made it priceless.  Checking the hands, he saw that it was almost six o’clock.  He figured he had another half hour or so until he reached his stop.  Geographical knowledge had not factored into his choice of cities.   The only basis in choosing where his final destination would be was that it was the furthest distance he could travel on the money he had.    Every mile traveled meant he was a mile further away from his abusive father.

He was suddenly aware that night had fallen.  The architecture outside the bus was also changing.  Suburban homes gave way to tall buildings and harsh neon lights flashed on and off, advertising bars and other business.  As the traffic became heavier, the bus slowed down, its air brakes sounding constantly as it maneuvered through the busy streets.  Within minutes, it pulled into a rundown station, graffiti coloring the dirty brick walls.  Pulling into an empty bay, the bus driver turned off the engine.  Standing up the elderly driver braced his hands against his aching back and carefully stretched out his spine.  “End of the road folks, have a good evening.”

Nerves took hold of Tom and with shaky hands he clutched his bag to his chest.  As he descended the steps of the bus the driver called out, “Have you got someone to meet you lad?”  

Tom nodded, hoping his face did not give away the truth.  Hurrying through the dilapidated terminus, he soon found himself standing on a busy street corner.   He gazed around him in wonder, the flashing lights and car horns jangling his nerves.   Now that he was here, he had no idea what he was going to do.  His stomach rumbled, again reminding him that he was hungry.  He had eighty-eight cents in his pocket, which was possibly enough for a burger, but he had nowhere to sleep.  Closing his eyes, he felt the prick of tears behind his eyelids.  Angrily swiping them away with the back of his hand, he looked around him in an effort to gain his bearings.    

A car slowly pulled up next to the curb and a man leaned across and wound down the passenger window.  “How much?” he asked, looking Tom up and down.

Tom stared back blankly, not understanding the meaning of the man’s words.  “Huh?” he asked naïvely, as he approached the black Cadillac.

“Are you on the game?” the man asked impatiently, “If so, how much?” 

Comprehension slowly dawned on Tom.  The man thought he was a prostitute.  About to give the pervert a mouthful, he suddenly stopped.  This could be the answer to his money problems.  It was not that he wanted to do it but necessity was the mother of invention, or so the saying went.  After all, it was not as if he were a virgin, his father had taken that way from him over four years ago.  Bending down, Tom peered into the car.  The man was middle aged, his suit looked high quality and he drove a fancy car.  He obviously was not short of money.  Smiling sweetly, Tom answered, “Depends, whatcha want?”

The man returned the smile.  “How about a blowjob?”

Tom almost sighed with relief.  A blowjob, as disgusting as it was, meant sparing his battered body from further rough treatment.  He was well skilled in oral sex, his father having instructed him from a young age.  Having no idea what to charge he picked a random figure out of his head. “Twenty bucks.”

The man narrowed his eyes.  “A little pricey, don’t you think?”

Tom shrugged, pretending not to care one way or the other.  The man’s eyes traveled down and then back up Tom’s slim, lithe body, finally settling on his young face.   He was truly stunned at how beautiful Tom was and he knew straight away that he would pay far more than twenty dollars to have the boy’s pouting lips wrapped around his throbbing cock.  Grabbing the passenger door handle, he pushed open the door.  “Get in,” he instructed.

Tom did not allow himself time to think.  Climbing into the car, he threw his bag onto the floor.  His heart hammered in his chest and he nervously chewed on his lower lip.  He had no idea how to proceed.  Sensing Tom’s uncertainty, the man laid a hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. “I’m Joseph, what’s your name?”

“Tom,” Tom replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Let’s go somewhere more private Tom,” Joseph said, his voice dripping with fake kindness.

Tom gave an almost unperceivable nod.  The man checked in his rear vision mirror and flicking his indicator, he slowly pulled into the Friday night traffic.  Hunching down into his seat, Tom stared out of the window as he tried to calm his growing anxiety.  He desperately attempted to memorize his surroundings but the city was too big and every corner looked the same.  He suddenly became aware that the car had turned off into a dimly lit alleyway.  Switching off the engine, Joseph smiled.  “Let’s get out, it’ll be less cramped.”

Getting out of the car, Tom followed the man as they walked for several moments until two large dumpsters hid them from the view of the road.  Joseph pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill and handed it to Tom.  Tom immediately stuffed it in his pocket, his hands shaking uncontrollably.  Reaching out, the man touched his face.  “You really are a pretty little thing aren’t you,” he murmured as his hand traveled down the length of Tom’s torso, stopping when he reached his stomach.  Leaning forward he whispered, “I’ll pay you more if you let me touch you.”

Tom’s breath hitched in his throat and he became paralyzed with fear.  Taking his non-response as affirmation, Joseph’s fingers stroked at Tom’s crotch through his jeans.  Tom silently willed his body not to react but he was a fifteen year old boy with raging hormones and his body quickly betrayed him as his cock began to swell.  The man chuckled as he felt Tom’s arousal growing beneath his probing fingers.  “You like that huh?” he muttered quietly, “I knew the moment I saw you that you were nothing more than a little whore.”

Tom screwed his eyes closed as degradation burned his face.  The man laughed aloud at Tom’s discomfort.  Releasing Tom’s erection, the man unzipped his own trousers, letting them drop to his ankles, his boxers following soon after.  Opening his eyes, Tom saw Joseph looking at him expectantly.  “On your knees whore, and show me what you can do,” the man growled, the kindness in his voice now absent.

The fowl stench of the alleyway assaulted Tom’s senses and he felt his stomach churn.  Dropping to his knees, the uneven ground dug painfully into his flesh.  He felt the man stroking his hair as he inched forward, his lips just millimeters from the man’s erect cock.  Swallowing deeply, he opened his mouth as his lips enveloped the engorged cockhead.  Joseph immediately grabbed a handful of Tom’s hair, painfully ripping at the roots.  Holding Tom’s head still, he rammed his cock deep into Tom’s throat.  Tom’s eyes flew open as he began to choke.  But the man held him tightly as he thrust backwards and forwards, his cock violently fucking Tom’s mouth.  It did not take many moments for Joseph to reach his climax and he cried out his pleasure as his hot semen hit the back of Tom’s throat.  

The disgusting act now thankfully over, Tom tried to pull away but the man held him firmly in place until his spasming body shuddered to a halt.  He shoved Tom roughly to the ground as he pulled up his boxers and jeans.  When he turned away, Tom cried out, his eyes brimming with tears.  “Where’s my extra money?”

Joseph laughed cruelly, “Here’s a lesson for you kid, always get the money _before_ you do the deed,” and leaving the sobbing teenager sitting on the ground, he got into his car, threw out Tom's bag and drove away.

 


	5. Invisible Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: The disgusting act now thankfully over, Tom tried to pull away but the man held him firmly in place until his spasming body shuddered to a halt.  He shoved Tom roughly to the ground as he pulled up his boxers and jeans.  When he turned away, Tom cried out, his eyes brimming with tears.  “Where’s my extra money?”_
> 
> _Joseph laughed cruelly, “Here’s a lesson for you kid, always get the money before you do the deed,” and leaving the sobbing teenager sitting on the ground, he got into his car and drove away.  
> _

[**Invisible Children**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=5) 

Dennis Booker leaned against the cold brick building as he panhandled for loose change.  At sixteen, he was a hardened, streetwise runaway. He had left his abusive home life at the tender age of thirteen, preferring the harsh life of the streets to the constant beatings and abuse he received from his mother’s many boyfriends.  In his short life, he had seen and experienced far more than most would ever want to.  Known as Booker within the local runaway community, he was fiercely protective of the younger, more vulnerable children of the streets.  More often than not, he would put himself in unnecessary danger by selling his own body and giving the money to another teen, rather than see them risk their own lives.   Many a runaway turned up dead, beaten to death by an overzealous john.  It was the reason Booker tried to discourage prostitution among those he considered his responsibility.  But the need to survive always overrode the need to protect one’s body and all of the teens on the street resorted to prostitution at one time or another.  

Pushing back his dark unruly hair, he lit a cigarette that he had managed to bum off a client and casually observed the stream of people hurrying by.  His trained eye immediately spotted Tom as he scurried past.  Booker knew the look; Tom had a dazed almost catatonic expression as he clutched a bag possessively to his chest.   Throwing down his butt, Dennis began to follow a few feet behind, deftly weaving in and out of the Friday night crowd in an attempt to keep his target in sight.  He observed Tom enter a busy Burger King, so he hung back and waited.

Managing to find a table, Tom sat down and within moments, he had devoured his meal.  Licking his lips, he picked up his bag and walked out.  It was now late in the evening and he was desperate to find a place to sleep.  He was used to sleeping rough but not in a bustling metropolis.  His eyes scanned back and forth, as he searched for a suitable place to bed down for the night.  Spying a narrow alleyway, he cautiously entered.  Walking slowly down the uneven footpath, he heard footsteps behind him.  As his heart began to pound, he wound the strap of his holdall around his arm and holding on tightly he quickly spun around.   With a wild yell, he hit the figure behind him with the full force of his bag.  

Booker fell to the ground, emitting a loud _oomph_ as he hit the pavement.  Tom stood over Dennis’ prone body, his bag raised above his head in readiness of an attack.  Sitting up carefully, Dennis smiled as he held his hands up in mock surrender.  “Whoa, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he cajoled, “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Slowly lowering his arms, Tom stared back suspiciously.  “What do you care?” he asked, his voice sounding shakier than he would have liked.

Keeping his hands out in front of him, Booker rose to his feet.  He quickly took in Tom’s dirty, disheveled appearance and the bruised eye that was still a vivid shade of red.  Using a soothing tone, he attempted to connect with the frightened runaway, “I’m a runaway, the same as you but I’ve been around a lot longer.  If you stick with me and mine, I’ll keep you safe.  There’s a group of us who hang out on the corner of forty-second and ninth.”

Distrust still shone out of Tom’s eyes but he was tired and close to tears from the emotion of the day. Feeling defeated and alone, his shoulders sagged and a strangled sob escaped his throat.  Dropping his bag, he covered his face with his hands, unable to stem the flow of tears.  He felt strong arms pull him into an embrace and at first, he fought against it.  But Dennis’ arms remained tight around his body and he sank into the comfort, allowing his imagination to pretend that it was Doug’s arms hugging him.  As his anguish slowly subsided, Booker released his hold and stepped back.  Embarrassed, Tom kept his head down as he wiped at his face with his palms.  When he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, he looked up and gave a shy smile.

Dennis’ heart ached at the site of the pretty teenager standing in front of him.   He slowly returned the smile as he squeezed Tom’s shoulder.  “Hey, it’s okay to cry.  Crying means you still feel something and that’s good, right?”

Tom nodded, too weary to argue.  But he was not sure he _wanted_ to feel anything anymore.  Feeling was just too damn painful.

Booker dropped his hand and offered it to Tom, “Dennis Booker, but most people just call me Booker.”

“Tom McQuaid,” Tom replied as he shook Dennis’ hand.

“Can I call you Tommy?” Booker asked, thinking that it suited the slightly built boy better.

Tears once again filled Tom’s eyes but this time he managed to keep them under control.  “My brother calls me that,” he whispered, as memories of Doug flooded his mind.

Booker immediately became wary.  The last thing he wanted to do was cause the boy standing in front of him any more heartache by dragging up thoughts of loved ones.  “That’s fine, I’ll just call you Tom,” he answered quietly.

Sighing deeply, Tom shook his head.  “No, I like Tommy, you can call me that if you want.”

“That’s settled then,” Dennis replied cheerfully.  “C’mon Tommy, I’ll introduce you to the others and then we can find a place to sleep.”

Picking up his bag, Tom followed his new friend out of the darkened alleyway and back into the bright lights of the city.

**

Booker hung onto Tom’s arm as he wound his way around the inner city streets.  He stopped occasionally to chat to other teen runaways who clustered in groups around various corners of the city.  It took only ten minutes to find Booker’s group who were sitting in the doorway of the National Finance Institution.  Several shopping bags were scattered around them, which Tom guessed held their belongings.  Placing his arm around Tom’s shoulders, Dennis’ began the introductions, “This is Tommy, he’ll be staying with us for awhile.”

Several hands waved in welcome as Booker continued, “That’s Erin, that’s Dave, the tough looking guy is Harry and this beautiful jewel…” he stepped forward and took the hand of a seventeen year old girl, “…is Judy.”

Tom gave an awkward smile as he studied his new acquaintances.  Erin was blond and petite, with braces on her teeth.  Tom guessed her age at about thirteen.  Dave appeared younger, his expression was timid and he wore a pair of broken glasses, which someone had taped together at the bridge.  Harry was about seventeen and of Asian descent.  He had muscular arms and looked as though he could hold his own in a fight.  Harry stared at Tom suspiciously for a few moments then smiled a brilliant smile.  Tom immediately relaxed and smiled back as he began to feel accepted.  Lastly, he turned his attention to the pretty African-American girl.  Her hair was short and she wore long, dangly earrings.  

Tom saw Booker whisper something in her ear and he wondered if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.  He stood back shyly as the others debated where the best place to sleep for the night would be.  Each put a hand in their pocket and pulled out what little money they had.  Tom immediately added his but they still did not have enough for three hotel rooms.  Fearing an inundation of runaways in their establishments, the managers of the local hotels refused to allow more than two to a room.  As Erin yawned sleepily, Booker sat down beside her and draping an arm around her shoulder, he pulled her head against his chest.  

“Erin and Judy get the room, the rest of us will sleep rough,” Booker decided as he handed several notes to Judy.  “Go to the Exeter, it’s the safest, we’ll meet you there tomorrow.”

Judy tugged at Erin’s hand and the young girl groaned, annoyed at the separation from her beloved Dennis.  Grabbing up their bags, the boys watched on as the two girls ran across the busy road and disappeared into a building on the other side.  When they saw Judy stand in the doorway and wave, they knew she had safely secured a room.  Standing up, Booker clapped a hand on Tom’s shoulder.  “C’mon, let’s go find a place to sleep.”

Taking their bags, the group wandered down the street.  Tom noticed that there were less people about.  He walked silently beside Booker as Harry and Dave brought up the rear.  It was several minutes before Dennis spoke, “So, what’s your story Tommy?  I’m guessing from the black eye and bruising around your wrist that someone at home has been using you as a punching bag.  Am I right?”

Tom felt a familiar knot form in his stomach.  He had long ago been programmed not to speak about the abuse he suffered at the hands of his father.  When he did not answer, Booker decided not to press.  Some runaways were happy to open up to others who had suffered similar fates.  However, many more found the shame and humiliation too difficult to discuss.  Studying Tom’s face, Booker knew by the look in Tom’s eye that he was also a victim of sexual abuse.  The haunted, almost disturbed expression was a direct give away.  Dennis only had to catch his own reflection in the mirror to see the same look staring back at him.  

His immediate concern though, was how pretty Tom was.  He would be highly sort after in the world of teenage prostitution.  Booker had no idea how long Tom had been in the city and he hoped that some middle-aged pervert had not already preyed upon him.  He wanted desperately to save Tom from that experience if he could. 

Booker stopped outside a boarded up building.  Telling the others to stay where they were, he disappeared down the adjacent side alley.  Several minutes later, he returned wearing a big smile.  “Looks like we’ve got the place to ourselves, c’mon.”

As Tom followed his new friends into the abandoned building, he felt a huge sense of relief wash over his body.  He was so tired and finally he had a safe place to lay his head.  Stopping in a backroom, Booker threw down his bag, signaling that this would be where they would spend the night.  The room looked as though it used to be an office.  There were remnants scattered around indicating that other homeless people had been using the building as a refuge.  Dennis pulled a couple of candle stubs out of his bag and lit them with a plastic lighter.  The flickering light cast eerie shadows across the graffiti splattered walls.  Harry immediately set to and cleared a space on the floor for Dave, who could barely keep his eyes open.  Wrapping the younger boy in his jacket, Harry lay down next to him and pulling him into a protective embrace, they closed their eyes and fell asleep.

Picking up the candles, Booker indicated for Tom to follow him to the other side of the room.   Both boys sat cross-legged on the linoleum floor.  Tom wrapped his arms around his body, shivering slightly.  Dennis immediately shrugged out of his leather jacket and handed it to him.  Tom shook his head in embarrassment.  He had packed in such a hurry he had not even thought about bringing warm clothing.  Dennis laid the jacket over Tom’s knees.  “Take it,” he said quietly, “I’m not cold.”

Tom smiled gratefully and put the jacket on.  It was too big, but he instantly felt warmer.  “Thanks,” he replied.

Booker remained silent for a moment before speaking, “How old are you Tommy?  Thirteen?”

Anger flashed across Tom’s face.  “I’m fifteen!” he replied indignantly.  

“Sorry,” Dennis replied, a smile playing on his lips, “But you look thirteen.”

Tom scowled.  He hated the fact that he was so small.  It appeared each brother was the opposite of the other, as Doug was big for his age.  

Dennis studied Tom’s face for a moment.  “When did you arrive in the city?”

A small pout formed on Tom’s lips.  “I thought you got the hint that I don’t play twenty questions.  But if you must know, I got here today.”

Booker exhaled heavily.  He wanted to have _the talk_ with Tom about not getting on the game but he was beginning to get the feeling that Tom would not listen.  Sensing that Dennis had something to say, Tom decided to get it over with so he could finally get some sleep.  “ _What?”_ he asked moodily.

Dennis shifted his position so he was sitting next to Tom.  Draping an arm around him, he spoke in a quiet voice, “It’s just, I’m sorry Tommy but you’re _very_ pretty and—"

When Tom angrily started to protest, Booker ignored him and carried on, “Whether you like it or not, you are and that makes you a target for all the pedophiles out there.  They like boys who are pretty and petite like a girl but still have a dick.  I don’t want you to get caught up in that.  I know you don’t want to talk about your home life but I _know_ what you’ve been through ‘cause I’ve been through the same.  But the abuse can stop now Tommy, understand?  You _don’t_ have to let men take advantage of you anymore.”

Tom let Booker’s words sink in before he replied, “So how do we get money?” he asked quietly.

Dennis frowned.  “You let me worry about that,” he replied.

Slowly shaking his head, Tom’s face was resolute.  “Uh-uh, no way.  I’m not gonna have it on _my_ conscience if something happens to you that it was ‘cause I was too chicken to do it myself.  I’m fifteen, I’m not a little kid like Dave or Erin.  I don’t _need_ to be protected from the big bad world ‘cause I’ve been living in it for most of my life.  And if what you say is true, I can get more money for the group ‘cause of the way I look,” Tom argued in a raised voice.  When Booker did not reply, he added quietly, “It’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

Seeing Tom’s determined look, Dennis sighed.  “Okay, but we work as a team ‘cause I know who’s safe and who’s not, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Tom replied, yawning loudly.  Booker leaned over and carefully blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness.  Both boys lay down and Tom found comfort in knowing that Dennis was only inches away from him.  Rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on his arm, he fell into an uneasy sleep.  



	6. The Harsh Light of Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING: THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS CONTAIN SEX SCENES BETWEEN AN ADULT AND A TEENAGER. NO FURTHER WARNINGS WILL BE GIVEN**
> 
>  
> 
> ****
> 
> _Previously: Slowly shaking his head, Tom’s face was resolute.  “Uh-uh, no way.  I’m not gonna have it on my conscience if something happens to you that it was ‘cause I was too chicken to do it myself.  I’m fifteen, I’m not a little kid like Dave or Erin.  I don’t need to be protected from the big bad world ‘cause I’ve been living in it for most of my life.  And if what you say is true, I can get more money for the group ‘cause of the way I look,” Tom argued, his voice raised.  When Booker did not reply, Tom added quietly, “It’s not like I’ve never done it before.”_ _Seeing Tom’s determined look, Dennis sighed.  “Okay, but we work as a team ‘cause I know who’s safe and who’s not, agreed?”_ _“Agreed,” Tom replied, yawning loudly.  Booker leaned over and carefully blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness.  Both boys lay down and Tom found comfort in knowing that Dennis was only inches away from him.  Rolling onto his stomach and resting his head on his arm, he fell into an uneasy sleep._
> 
> ****  
> 

[**The Harsh Light of Day**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=6) 

Waking early the following morning, Tom groaned from the discomfort of a full bladder.  Sitting up, he looked around to see if anyone else was awake.  Harry and Dave lay sleeping on the opposite corner of the room, their bodies still curled tightly together.  Booker however, was nowhere in sight.

Standing up and stretching out his aching limbs, Tom wondered where he could go to the toilet.  He usually slept outdoors in a park, so ducking behind a tree was the usual protocol.  Feeling anxious, he hurried from the room and almost collided with Booker who was entering through the doorway.  Seeing Tom’s fraught expression, Dennis laughed loudly, “We use the alley out back, but hold your breath, it stinks.”

Tom scurried from the room, his situation now desperate.  Running out into the cool morning air, he sprinted down the darkened alley and stopped behind an overflowing dumpster.  Unzipping his jeans, he sighed heavily as he relieved himself against the wall.  Zipping up, he walked back down the alley.  Ahead, he could see that the early morning traffic was light, the hour still too early for most people.  Shivering slightly, he walked back into the building just as a light drizzle began to fall.  When he entered the back room, he saw only Harry and Dave, both still fast asleep.  Hearing a sound in a room off to the right, he headed down the corridor.  

“In here,” Booker called out when he heard the approaching footsteps.  Tom entered a large room and saw Dennis sitting on the floor, the two candle stubs next to him, their short wicks flickering weakly.  

Tom took off Booker’s jacket and handed it back to him before sitting down on the floor.   Pulling up his legs, he wrapped his arms around them, as he rested his chin on his knees.  “What?” he asked when he saw the older teenager’s dark eyes studying his face.  

“Tell me about your brother,” Dennis said, his voice gentle.  “I’d like to hear about him.”

Tom stared back at Booker, uneasy about where the conversation may be heading.  Instead of answering, he threw a question back at Dennis, “How long have you been on the streets?”

Unlike Tom, Booker had no problem answering questions.  “Just over three years.  When my Dad left us, my Mom kinda went a little crazy.  You know, reliving her youth and all that.  She kept bringing different guys home, then after a week, she’d ask them to move in.  Trouble was, it wasn’t her they were interested in… if you get my drift.”

Tom nodded, knowing exactly what Dennis meant.  Booker was very good looking, his body well toned for a teenager and his dark, unruly hair gave him the _bad boy_ look that most teens would kill to possess.  But it was Booker’s eyes that fascinated Tom the most.  They were the darkest eyes that Tom had ever seen, almost bordering on being black.  However, they also shimmered with deep compassion, which instantly contradicted the bad boy persona.  

Raking his hand through his hair, Booker smiled mischievously.  “So, now that I’ve told _you_ something, how ‘bout you tell me about your brother.”

Realizing that resistance was futile, Tom spoke candidly about Doug.  He explained how after their mother had died, Doug did his best to protect Tom from any beatings his father thought were deserved.  He skipped quickly over the sexual exploitation, preferring to use the same premise as Booker and just allude to the abuse.  Lastly, he recounted Doug’s arrest and incarceration.  He confided to Booker that he knew he could not endure his father’s abuse without the support of his sibling.

When Tom had finished, both boys sat silently for several minutes.  Finally, Booker reached out and cupped Tom’s face in his callused hand.  “Thanks for sharing Tommy,” he murmured, as Tom’s face flushed pink. “It means a lot.”

Muttering a quick _“No worries”_ Tom pulled away from Dennis’ touch.  He was unaccustomed to displays of affection.  Doug was the most caring person he knew but his demonstrations were often clumsy, as was usually the case with brothers.  

Seeing Tom’s reddened face, Booker could not help but smile.  He quickly ducked his head so Tom would not notice.  But Dennis’ smile soon faded.  He knew that the longer Tom stayed around, the harder it would be not to fall for the attractive, vulnerable teenager and _that_ , he decided, would be a very bad idea. 

**

Rain pelted down onto the footpath as passing vehicles splashed up sprays of water from the overflowing gutters.  The four boys huddled in the doorway of The Exeter Hotel waiting for Judy and Erin to arrive.  When they finally appeared, all six ran across the road and under the canopy of a nearby grocer.  Pulling out their money, they surveyed their dwindling finances.  Seeing his friends despondent faces, Booker sung out cheerfully, “Who wants breakfast?”

Dave’s normally subdued expression turned into one of happiness.  “Donuts!” he yelled excitedly.

Booker ruffled the younger boy’s hair.  “I think oatmeal would be more nutritious.  How ‘bout we go to Joey’s, it’s always good there.”

Everyone nodded his or her agreement except Tom, who had no idea who or what Joey’s was.  Erin took hold of Dave’s hand and they ran ahead of the group, energized at the thought of eating.  Judy and Harry followed close behind, their shoulders hunched against the rain as they kept an eye on their younger friends.  As Booker and Tom lagged behind, the rain soaking through their clothing, Tom had a feeling something was bothering Dennis.  As they stopped at a pedestrian crossing, Tom pulled on Booker’s sleeve.  “Spill,” he said, hopeful that whatever it was, it was not too serious.

As the green “walk” signal flashed, both boys crossed.  It was not until they reached the other side and continued down the street that Booker opened up.  “Breakfast is pretty much gonna wipe us out.  I don’t know about you, but I could use a decent night’s sleep, which means three hotel rooms.  Even if we go to the roach infested Camelot, we still don’t have enough money, which means…” Dennis’ voice trailed off.  He had been a teen prostitute for over three years and yet he still found it difficult to say the actual words.

“Oh,” Tom replied, as a wave of nausea washed over his body.  Pushing it aside, he laid a hand on Booker’s arm, pulling him up short.  “It’s okay,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady.  “I’ll do it.”

It was Booker’s turn to show emotion.  Tears glistened in his eyes as he shook his head.  “As a team, remember?” he stated, “I know who’s who, I can keep us safe.”

Tom smiled a half smile.  “As a team,” he agreed.

Arriving at Joey’s they found the others inside, already sitting at a table.  The owner (whose name was actually Louie) welcomed the shabby runaways.  He had a soft spot for Booker’s group.  Unlike most, they were always polite and never tried to skip out without paying.  He deliberately increased their portion sizes so that the children received a filling breakfast.  He wished he could do more, but with a sick mother and eight children to take care of, he barely managed to make ends meet.  It was tough, but he did what he could without leaving himself too short.

Dave and Erin’s eyes lit up as the huge bowls of steaming oatmeal arrived.  They blew on their heaped spoons, desperate to take a mouthful but burning their tongues every time they tried.  Tom smiled in amusement.  It was the first time he had seen either of the two behave in a childish manner.  At such young ages, their faces carried the careworn expressions of people four times their age.  It was nice to see them behaving like young teens.  Tom wondered if that was how he appeared to other people.  Did his face show the ravages his body had endured?  He hoped not, he did not want strangers to know his dirty secret.

When the two youngest teens went to the restroom, Booker told Harry and Judy that he and Tom were going to hit the streets.  Both immediately protested, but Booker remained firm.  He needed both older teens to take care of Erin and Dave.  They should find a place to shelter for the day and he and Tom would meet them back on the steps of The National Finance Institution building at about one o’clock.

Before Dave and Erin returned, Booker paid the bill and left the restaurant with Tom.  Tom could feel his hands clenching into fists as his breathing became labored.  He tried to appear calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was falling apart.  As much as he wanted to help Booker, who was the only person in the world besides Doug to have shown him kindest in his darkest hour, he did not know if he could go through with it.  As they stopped on a street corner, Tom began to feel faint.  Staggering backwards, he bumped into well-dressed woman carrying a large umbrella.  “Watch it!” she cried out, her face showing the disdain she felt at having touched someone so filthy.

“Sorry,” Tom mumbled as he closed his eyes and reached out to steady himself against a light pole.  He felt Booker’s arm around his waist, giving him support.

“Hey Tommy, are you okay?” Dennis asked, his voice concerned.

Taking a deep breath, Tom pulled himself together.  He managed a weak smile.  “Yeah, just went a bit dizzy for a sec, I’m fine.”

Turning Tom to face him, Booker placed his hands lightly on his new friend’s hips and stared intensely into his soft, brown eyes.  “You don’t have to do this,” he said.

“Yeah I do,” Tom replied miserably, his face etched with sadness.  “If you hadn’t found me I’d be doing it anyway.  Now at least when I do it I know the money can help others, you know, like you’ve helped me.”

For the second time Dennis’ eyes filled with tears.  He quickly swiped them away as a brown Datsun pulled up to the curb.  Booker approached the car and had a conversation with the occupant.  After a few minutes, he walked back to Tom and draped a comforting arm around his shoulder.  “He’s a regular, pretty standard, he just wants to fuck you and make you come.  He’s okay, as far as they go, you know, he’s not violent or anything and he’ll drive you back.  He’ll try and kiss you on the mouth, but if you tell him no, he’ll stop.  He’s willing to pay seventy bucks but it’s up to you, if you don’t want—”

“I’ll do it,” Tom interrupted quickly.  As he climbed into the passenger seat Booker called out, “I’ll meet you back here in a couple of hours okay?”

Nodding, Tom closed the door.  He turned to face his _client_ and was surprised to see that the man was only in his thirties.  “Wow!” Robbie Werner exclaimed when he saw Tom’s face.  “You’re gorgeous.”

Tom did not answer.  Instead, he put on his seat belt and held out his hand.  “Money.”

Robbie laughed as he pulled out into the busy street traffic.  “You really are new aren’t you?  I’ll give it to you when we get to the hotel.”

Glad that the man did not want to make small talk, Tom turned away and watched as the rain pelted down outside.  Within minutes they were at their destination, a reasonable looking hotel with a flashing vacancy sign.  Running out of the rain and into the foyer, Tom removed his wet bandanna and shoved it in his pocket as Robbie paid for a room.  As they climbed the staircase to the second floor, Tom’s heart rate began to increase.   The man unlocked the room and opening the door he let Tom pass through first.  It was a basic room with a double bed, two bedside tables, a lamp and a one-door wardrobe.  A print of Monet’s Garden hung on the wall above the bed.  

“So,” the man said as he took off his jacket and eyed Tom up and down.  “How about we get you out of those wet clothes.”

Tom held out his hand again.  “Money first.”

The man pulled several notes out of his trouser pocket and handed them to Tom.  After counting the money, Tom shoved it into his jeans pocket.  “Okay?” Robbie asked and Tom nodded.

Reaching out, Robbie removed Tom’s denim waistcoat and threw it on the chair.  Next, he slowly unbuttoned Tom’s shirt and peeling the wet fabric from his body, he threw it next to the waistcoat.  Taking the bottom of Tom’s t-shirt in his fingers, he pulled it up over the teenager’s head.  His arousal became more evident as his breathing intensified.  “Take off your boots,” he instructed, as he trailed a finger up and down Tom’s taut stomach.  Tom kicked off his boots and reaching down, he removed his socks.  “Good,” Robbie breathed as he unbuttoned Tom’s jeans.  Tom closed his eyes and bit down onto his lower lip to keep from crying.  The man pulled down the zipper and let the jeans fall around Tom’s ankles.  Tom immediately stepped out of the damp denim and kicked them away with his foot.  The man gently cupped Tom’s cock through the thin fabric of his boxers.  “Mmm, very nice,” he murmured as Tom’s face flushed with humiliation.  With his eyes still closed, Tom could hear the man begin to undress and his dread increased.  When he opened his eyes, he saw the man standing in front of him, wearing nothing but a very large erection.  Tom’s eyes widened at the sight, he had never seen such a big cock and he felt panic rise in his throat.  Robbie smiled widely, “Impressive huh?  But don’t worry beautiful, I’ll be gentle.”  Taking Tom’s hand, the man led him to the bed and instructed him to lie down.  He then climbed between Tom’s bent knees.  Hooking his fingers into the waistband of Tom’s boxers, he slowly removed them and threw them on the floor.  Tom had not noticed that the man had removed a tube of lubrication and several condoms from his jacket pocket and had laid them out on the bed.  Leaning forward, Robbie attempted to kiss Tom on the lips but the teenager quickly turned his head away.

“No kissing,” Tom said hurriedly, remembering what Booker had told him.

The man pouted but obliged.  Instead, he bent down and sucked at Tom’s nipple.  Embarrassment flooded through Tom’s body as Robbie sucked and caressed at the little raised nubs.  Kneeling back, Robbie unwrapped a condom and rolled it expertly onto his erection.  Next, he picked up the tube of lube and squeezed it onto his fingers.  Tom watched as he slicked up his large cock with the sticky substance.  When the man’s fingers touched his opening, Tom visibly recoiled.  “Shh,” the man soothed, “I’m just going to use my fingers first and get you ready.”

Tom screwed his eyes shut as the man inserted first one finger and after moving it past the muscle, a second.  Using a scissoring action, he gently opened Tom up.  When Tom felt the man’s fingers being removed his heart started pounding in his chest.  He felt the tip of the man’s cock pushing against him as it slowly entered his body.  Once inside, the man stopped.  “Look at me,” he instructed and Tom slowly opened his eyes.  Robbie’s breathing became shallow as he stared into Tom’s dark orbs.  “I want you to come, you hear me?” he whispered as he began to stroke Tom’s semi erect cock.  

Tom nodded and closing his eyes, he felt the man begin to move inside him.  The sex was far less violent than with his father and as the man stroked and tugged at his growing erection, he felt his arousal intensifying.  As the man watched Tom’s cock swell, his thrusting became more intense.  Slamming his cock deep into Tom’s body, he saw the boy’s eyes suddenly fly open.  With a startled cry, Tom ejaculated over the man’s fingers and onto his own stomach.  It only took another two thrusts for Robbie to scream out, as his own orgasm hit. 

As the man withdrew, Tom threw an arm over his eyes and began to sob.  Having never encountered such a reaction before, Robbie was unsure what to do.  When he attempted to comfort Tom the teenager rolled away and pulling his knees up to his chest, he curled himself into a ball and sobbed silently into the pillow.

Robbie rose from the bed and cleaned himself up before getting dressed.  When he was again fully clothed, he sat on the bed next to Tom and laid a hand on his naked shoulder.  “Come on, let’s get you dressed and back to your friend.”

Tom sat up slowly and angrily rubbed the tears from his face.  Robbie handed him his clothing and he dressed quickly, not wanting to stay in the hotel room any longer.  He pulled the wet bandanna out of his pocket and tied it back around his head.  He did not know why but somehow, the bandanna gave him confidence.  

As they left the hotel and drove back to Booker, Tom knew his life would never be the same.  He had felt something when the man had slammed his cock deep into his body and that feeling had brought about an orgasm.  He was as much of a pervert as the johns, he thought miserably.

Hunching down into his seat he allowed the hopelessness of his situation to shroud his mind completely.   As the minutes ticked past, he felt himself slowly falling into a black pit of despair.

 


	7. Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: As they left the hotel and drove back to Booker, Tom knew his life would never be the same.  He had felt something when the man had slammed his cock deep into his body and that feeling had brought about an orgasm.  He was as much of a pervert as the johns, he thought miserably._
> 
> _Hunching down into his seat he allowed the hopelessness of his situation to shroud his mind completely.   As the minutes ticked past, he felt himself slowly falling into a black pit of despair._

[**Blood**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=7) 

Climbing out of Robbie Werner’s car, Tom anxiously searched the crowded footpath for Booker.  Pulling out his watch, he calculated that he had been gone for about an hour.  He knew it was too early to panic, Dennis had said that they would meet back in a couple of hours and depending on _what_ he was being paid to do, it could even take a little longer.  Leaning against the wall of a women’s boutique, Tom closed his eyes and tried to block out the memory of his latest sexual encounter.  He felt sick to his stomach that he had _enjoyed_ having a man fucking him up the ass.  He had enjoyed it so much that he had climaxed, something that had never happened when his Dad raped him. It went against everything he believed in.  He felt dirty and perverted and his eyes burned as they filled with tears of confusion.  

A quiet cough brought him back to reality.  Opening his eyes, he swiftly wiped away his tears.  A middle-aged man stood next to him, his face full of concern.  “Are you all right?” he asked kindly.

Not wanting to engage in conversation, Tom nodded his affirmation and quickly turned away.  The man leaned in close and clearing his throat, he whispered hoarsely, “How about a hand job?”

Tom’s stomach lurched and his depression rapidly deepened.   That was all people saw when they looked at him; he was just a beautiful face who could give sexual pleasure.  He was nothing more than a dirty little whore who walked the streets, waiting to be exploited.  He felt that he was rapidly losing his identity.  Soon, Thomas James McQuaid would no longer exist.  He would become just Tommy, the pretty, teenage prostitute that men fucked in exchange for money.  

The man coughed impatiently and Tom pulled himself out of his self-deprecation.  He had to accept that this was now his life.  He was certain he did not deserve it but it was the hand he had ultimately been dealt and he needed to learn to make the best of it.   With a sigh, he made his decision.  If he went with the man, it would be more money in his pocket and with any luck, by the time he had finished, Booker would be waiting for him.  

“Okay,” he muttered wearily, “Where do you wanna go?”

“I know a place,” the man replied, taking hold of Tom’s arm and pulling him through the crowded streets.  “It’s not far.”

After several minutes of winding through back alleys and narrow walkways, the man shoved Tom into an abandoned building.  Looking around him, Tom began to feel uneasy.  _Something isn’t right,_ he thought and just as he was about to run, a fist slammed into the side of his head.

 _“FILTHY WHORE!”_ the man screamed, as Tom fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.  “You think you can tempt men into sinning against God?  _WHORE!_   You will never know forgiveness!” A steel-capped boot connected with Tom’s ribs and the teenager cried out in pain.  As the assault continued, Tom covered his head with his arms in an attempt to protect himself.  He curled his body into a ball as boots and fists connected with his flesh and bones.  A sharp pain in his stomach had him screaming in agony and he desperately tried to roll away.  But the onslaught continued for several more minutes until the man was too exhausted to go on.  With a final vicious kick to Tom’s head, he walked away, leaving Tom unconscious and laying in a pool of his own blood, a knife sticking out of his stomach.

**

Booker had managed to secure two jobs in two hours.  The first was oral sex for twenty dollars.  The second was a regular who went _all the way_.  His regular had dropped him off just after one o’clock.  Booker now had six crisp twenty-dollar bills in his pocket, payment for being, as his _client_ like to put it, a _good boy_.  

Standing in the rain Dennis’ dark eyes darted back and forth searching for any signs of Tom.  He glanced at his wristwatch and his anxiety increased.  He had been so careful to send Tom off with a man that he trusted.  He had been pleasuring Robbie Werner for more than two years and had never found him to be anything but considerate and kind; well, as considerate and kind as a man who paid teenage boys for sex could be. 

Pushing his dripping hair back from his face, Booker walked into the fancy boutique where he and Tom had agreed to meet.  An elegantly dressed woman came hurrying over, her face showing alarm.  “You can’t be in here,” she whispered as she attempted to usher him out of the door without actually making physical contact.  “This is a reputable place of business.”

Ignoring the insult, Booker attempted to flash a winning smile.  “Don’t worry, I’ll leave.  I just need to know if you’ve seen my friend.”

The woman appeared perplexed.  “Why would I have seen your friend” she asked, “You're nothing but a…” her voice trailed off, too polite to say the words that had popped into her mind.

Remaining calm, Dennis tried to appeal to her humanity.  “Look, he’s new to the city and new to… well, you know.  A man picked him up and that was hours ago.  I _really_ need to find him.  Please!”

Seeing the genuinely worried expression on the dirty runaway’s face, the woman softened.  “I don’t really take much notice as to what goes on outside, but tell me what your friend looks like, maybe I saw something.”

After Booker gave his description, the woman nodded slowly.  “Yes, yes, I think I saw him getting out of a brown car.  I noticed him because he had a dazed look on his face and he was _very_ pretty for a boy.  But that was easily an hour ago, I don’t know where he went after that.”

“Are you sure you didn’t see him get in another car?” Booker asked, the timbre of his voice rising slightly.

“I’m sorry,” the woman replied firmly, “But I’ve told you everything I know, so please leave.”

Muttering, " _Thanks anyway,"_ Dennis left the shop.

Checking his watch again, Booker walked up and down the pavement for another fifteen minutes.  Suddenly realizing that Harry and the others would be wondering where he was, he turned and sprinted down the footpath, not caring if he bumped into people along the way.  For a split second, he wondered if Tom had misunderstood and that when he arrived at the steps of the National Finance Institution, he would find Tom sitting with his group, waiting for him to arrive.  As he rounded the corner, his heart fell; only four faces turned towards him.

“Have you seen Tommy?” he spluttered, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees as he panted heavily from his run.

Harry stood up, his face visibly alarmed.  “Isn't he with you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm so as not to scare Dave or Erin.

Shaking his head, Booker straightened up and replied, “He was but… I sent him off with Reliable Robbie and some woman reckons she saw him afterwards but… _FUCK!_   He’s been missing for hours and I don’t know where to—”

“BOOKER!” a voice yelled, and spinning around Dennis saw a runaway named Steve racing towards him.  “Someone’s been hurt!”

“Oh God,” Dennis whispered, the color draining from his face, “ _Tommy!”_

Judy pulled the two younger children close as Harry ran down the steps, stopping in front of a frightened Steve.  “What have you heard?” he commanded, “Tell me _now_.”

Steve spoke quickly, tripping over his words in his excitement, “The East Side kids found him!  He was… they found him in the disused warehouse on Huntington.  I think… no, they did… they took him to the free clinic on Fifty-Fourth, he’d been beaten and shot… no, no… stabbed!  Yeah, stabbed.  I dunno, but I think he might be dying.”

Erin broke into loud sobs as Judy held her close.  Harry turned to Booker.  “Go,” he instructed quietly, “We’ll meet you there.”

Dennis took off at a sprint, his heart pounding as he dodged and weaved through the post lunch crowds clogging up the pavement.  “Out of my way!” he shouted, occasionally shoving at an uncooperative pedestrian.  He arrived at the clinic within fifteen minutes and skidding into the waiting area, he yelled hysterically, “WHERE IS HE?  _WHERE IS HE?”_

A nurse scurried out from behind the reception area.  Taking in Dennis’ dirty, rumpled appearance, she immediately knew which patient he was inquiring about.  “It’s okay, he’s with the doctor, you’ll have to wait here until—”

“NO!” Booker screamed, “NO! NO! NOOO!  I need to see him, I need to see if it’s Tommy!”

The nurse laid a reassuring hand on Dennis’ shoulder.  “You need to calm down, you’re not helping your friend by behaving this way.  Take a seat and I’ll talk to the doctor.”

Ripping at his hair, Booker paced frantically back and forth in the waiting area until the nurse once again appeared.  “Is he okay?  Can I see him?” he asked hysterically.

Nodding, the nurse beckoned him forward.  Following down a brightly lit corridor, Booker wondered if he wanted it to be Tom or not.  If it was Tom, at least he had found him and if he were hurt, he would do everything in his power to make him well again.  However, if it was not Tom, he still had the daunting task of trying to find out where he was.  Taking a deep breath, he entered an exam room and cried out when he saw the beaten, bloody body of his friend laying on a bed, “TOMMY!”

Running towards the prone figure, one of the doctors in attendance intercepted him.  “Whoa son, take it easy.  Is this your friend?”

Booker nodded, his eyes never leaving Tom’s battered body.  “Yeah, he um, he’s Tommy,” he gulped, as tears sprang to his eyes.

The doctor put a fatherly arm around Dennis’ shoulders and led him to a row of seats.  Sitting down, he motioned to Dennis to do likewise.  “Your friend’s in a pretty bad way but he’s going to survive.  We need to get him to hospital so they can do a laparotomy to rule out any serious internal damage but I’m confident that the knife hasn’t penetrated any vital organs, so it’s really just a precaution.”

Shaking his head, Booker stared up at the doctor with wide eyes.  “He doesn’t have insurance, he can’t afford—”

“It’s okay,” the doctor replied, smiling reassuringly, “They’ve agreed to take him at no cost.”

“Oh thank God,” Booker breathed in relief, as tears trickled down his cheeks.  “Is he awake?  Can I speak to him?”

The young nurse who had escorted Booker to Tom poked her head in the room.  “The EMTs are here,” she informed the doctor before hurrying away.

Standing up the doctor spoke, “You can go with him if you like.”

Dennis nodded in appreciation.  Walking out beside Tom’s stretcher, Booker turned to the nurse.  “My friends are coming can you tell them where we are and… can you give them this,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the money he had earned.  “Tell them to go to The Exeter, I’ll meet them there.”

The nurse smiled kindly, tears glistening in her eyes.  Reaching out, she stroked Dennis’ tear stained cheek.  “Don’t worry honey, he’ll be fine and I’ll give your friends the message.”

Smiling in return, Booker followed a semi-conscious Tom out to the waiting ambulance.

 


	8. Pain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Dennis nodded in appreciation.  Walking out beside Tom’s stretcher, Booker turned to the nurse.  “My friends are coming can you tell them where we are and… can you give them this,” reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the money he had earned.  “Tell them to go to The Exeter, I’ll meet them there.”_
> 
> _The nurse smiled kindly, tears glistening in her eyes.  Reaching out, she stroked Dennis’ tear stained cheek.  “Don’t worry honey, he’ll be fine and I’ll give your friends the message.”_
> 
> _Smiling in return, Booker followed a semi-conscious Tom out to the waiting ambulance._

 [ **Pain**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=8)

A surgical team awaited Tom’s arrival at the hospital and they immediately took him to the O.R.  Booker paced the tiled floor of the waiting area, nervously chewing at his bitten down fingernails.  It took several hours before a doctor came and spoke to him to advise that the knife had not penetrated any of Tom’s organs and that after an overnight stay and if there were no complications, he could go home. 

_Home_ Dennis thought miserably, _Is there such place?_   After begging profusely, the nurses still would not allow him to see Tom, so Booker left the hospital and walked the wet pavements back to The Exeter hotel.  He found Harry, Judy, Dave and Erin sitting in the foyer eating a pizza.  They ate silently as Dennis described Tom’s injuries.  When he had finished speaking, he wondered why none of them would look him in the eye.  An uneasy feeling washed over him and just as he was about to ask what was wrong, Harry spoke, “Um, Booker… there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Oh?” Booker asked tersely, as tiredness suddenly enveloped his body, “It had better be good news, ‘cause I’m not really in the mood for anything else.”

“We’re leaving,” Judy blurted out, as Harry threw her an angry look.  Seeing Dennis’ startled expression she softened her voice, “Harry and I are taking Dave and Erin and going back east.  It’s safer there and after what happened to Tommy…”  Her voice drifted off as she thought of Tom lying in a hospital bed, a knife wound in his abdomen.

“So go,” Dennis replied wearily, “What do you want me to say huh?  Of _course_ I want you to be safe but your timing sucks.  Tommy’s in hospital and I won’t leave him alone.”

“Are you mad?” Judy asked, tears spilling from her dark brown eyes.  “We can wait if you want, until Tommy’s better and then we can all go.”

Dennis gave a small smile and shook his head.  “No… you should go as soon as possible.  Dave and Erin need to feel safe and they sure as hell don’t feel it here.”  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the remainder of his earnings and the money the hospital had given him that belonged to Tom.  Leaving enough for a few nights accommodation and food, he handed the rest to Harry.  “Here, it probably isn’t enough but—”

“It is,” Harry answered quickly as he pocketed the notes.  “Thanks.  I um, made some money tonight, so we’re good.  We’re going to leave first thing in the morning.  You know, get the hell out of Dodge and all that.”

Harry’s pitiful attempt at humor fell flat.  Booker stood up, too upset and tired to continue the conversation.  He gave each teenager a long, warm hug and wishing them well, he dragged his feet up the stairs to his room.  Walking in, he saw his and Tom’s bags sitting on the double bed.   Staring at Tom’s holdall it suddenly occurred to him that he knew very little about Tom McQuaid.  Hesitating for just a moment, he reached out and unzipped Tom’s bag.  On top was Fuller’s copy of _Catcher in the Rye_.  Dennis knew the book well.  Although having left home at the age of thirteen, he had a very high intelligence and before leaving junior high behind him for a life on the streets, his teacher enrolled him in several high school courses.  Flicking through the pages, he wondered what Tom thought of the book.  Placing it back, he picked up the photo frame.  Gazing at Tom’s beautiful face, Dennis felt tears run down his cheeks.  He turned his attention to Doug, who wore a cheeky, lopsided grin.  The brother’s were nothing alike but Booker could tell from the photo that they were close.  The remainder of the bag contained clothing and toiletries.  Pulling out a pair of tatty jeans, a t-shirt, socks and boxers, Booker carefully folded them and emptying out his own meager possessions, he put the change of clothing into his shopping bag.  

Placing the photo of Tom on the bedside table, Booker crawled under the covers without bothering to undress.  He stared at the picture until his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

**

Tom woke up in a hospital bed.  He felt groggy and disorientated, unsure as to where he actually was.  Trying to sit up, a dull pain pulled at his stomach and he flopped back onto the bed.  Looking around him, he could see medical equipment and slowly the day’s events resurfaced into his memory.  Some lunatic who thought he was an abomination to God and all that was God’s law, had beaten and stabbed him.  Putting his fingers up to his face, he winced as he tenderly touched his bruised flesh.  As he began to lower his blanket so he could see his wound, the door to his room opened.

A male nurse entered carrying a clipboard and a small, white cup.  “Ah, you’re awake.  How are you feeling?” he asked, as he closed the door behind him.

“Dizzy,” Tom replied, “and thirsty.”

The nurse paused at the end of the bed and poured a glass of water out of the jug.  Handing it to Tom, he waited patiently until the teenager had finished drinking.

“Thanks,” Tom replied with a smile.

“So,” the nurse said as he consulted his clipboard.  “You’re to have some pain medication.”  Passing the white cup to Tom, he refilled the glass.  “These will make you feel better.”

Tom placed the tablets on his tongue and swallowed them down with a sip of water.  Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes but they instantly flew back open when he felt the mattress sag as the nurse sat on the edge of the bed and spoke in a low menacing tone.  “You’re that hooker everyone’s been talking about.  They said you were a pretty little thing.”

Tom tried to speak but his mind became cloudy and his vision blurred.  “Shh,” the nurse interjected as he lowered Tom’s bed sheet and lifted up his gown.  “I know you like it, so why not lay back and enjoy it huh?”  Unable to move, Tom’s body was paralyzed by the drugs he had been given.  He felt the man fondle his cock and he squeezed his eyes shut as his mind screamed, _NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!_   The nurse cupped his testicles and massaged them gently.  Moving back to Tom’s growing erection, he ran his thumb over the engorged head.  “You really _do_ like that don’t you?” he murmured.  Leaning forward, the nurse darted out his tongue and licked at the weeping tip.  Tom made a gurgling sound and the man laughed.  Lowering his head, he took Tom into his mouth and sucked deeply.  Tom’s hips bucked off the mattress, a strangled cry filled with both pleasure and pain sounding from his lips. The man continued to suck until Tom was fully aroused.  He then lifted up his head and spat at Tom, the spittle hitting the injured teen in the face.  Standing up, the nurse walked silently out the door, leaving Tom to his humiliation, his body uncovered and his throbbing erection lying against his injured abdomen.  



	9. Anguish

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “So,” the nurse said as he consulted his clipboard.  “You’re to have some pain medication.”  Passing the white cup to Tom, he refilled the glass.  “These will make you feel better.”_
> 
> _Tom placed the tablets on his tongue and swallowed them down with a sip of water.  Lying back on the bed, he closed his eyes but they instantly flew back open when he felt the mattress sag as the nurse sat on the edge of the bed and spoke in a low menacing tone.  “You’re that hooker everyone’s been talking about.  They said you were a pretty little thing.”_
> 
> _Tom tried to speak but his mind became cloudy and his vision blurred.  “Shh,” the nurse interjected as he lowered Tom’s bed sheet and lifted up his gown.  “I know you like it, so why not lay back and enjoy it huh?”  Unable to move, Tom’s body was paralyzed by the drugs he had been given.  He felt the man fondle his cock and he squeezed his eyes shut as his mind screamed, NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!  The nurse cupped his testicles and massaged them gently.  Moving back to Tom’s growing erection, he ran his thumb over the engorged head.  “You really do like that don’t you?” he murmured.  Leaning forward, the nurse darted out his tongue and licked at the weeping tip.  Tom made a gurgling sound and the man laughed.  Lowering his head, he took Tom into his mouth and sucked deeply.  Tom’s hips bucked off the mattress, a strangled cry filled with both pleasure and pain sounding from his lips. The man continued to suck until Tom was fully aroused.  He then lifted up his head and spat at Tom, the spittle hitting the injured teen in the face.  Standing up, the nurse walked silently out the door, leaving Tom to his humiliation, his body uncovered and his throbbing erection lying against his injured_ _abdomen._  
> 

[**Anguish**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=9) 

Booker woke early from a fitful sleep.  He lay in bed staring at the photo of Tom and Doug, his heart heavy with all that Tommy had endured during his short life.  Although his own life mirrored that of Tom’s, Dennis’ empathy was always for others rather than for himself.  He had learnt early on that self-pity only led to deep, soul-destroying depression and if he were to survive on the streets and take care of others, he needed to stay strong.  

Looking at the clock, he sighed and climbed out of bed.  He needed to hit the streets early if he were to make enough money for food and to keep both he and Tom at the hotel for as long as Tommy needed to recuperate.  He took a long, hot shower before dressing and grabbing up all of his and Tom’s dirty clothes.  He headed down to the basement and threw the clothing into the machine.  Adding powder, he set the washer’s cycle and closed the lid.  An added luxury of staying at the Exeter was that he could leave his laundry unattended, knowing that it would not be stolen.    

Climbing back up the stairs, he greeted Morty the hotel manager, before exiting the building into the cool morning air.  Traffic was light but being a Sunday morning he knew it would not take long to find a _client_.  Many men who had spent the night partying were looking for a little action before heading home to their families.  Dennis knew if he played his cards right he could make several hundred dollars in a short space of time.  He made the decision not to be choosy.  If the offer were there, he would take it.  Every extra dollar he made meant he could keep himself and Tom off the streets and sleeping in a comfortable bed.  

He only had to wait five minutes before a car stopped beside him.  Taking a deep breath, Booker let his mind go blank.  Leaving reality allowed him to become a different person.  Then, when the john was violating his body, the violation was not happening to Dennis Patrick Booker, it was happening to somebody else.  Someone who did not care that his body was being debased, someone who did not weep for their lost childhood and someone who would one day, be able to leave the degradation behind and become _SOMEONE_.

**

Four hours later Dennis had nearly three hundred dollars in his pocket.  His body ached and he longed for a shower to wash away the scent of the four men he had pleasured.  Checking on his laundry, he found that Morty had put the clean clothes into the dryer and that they were now aired.  Gathering the warm fabric into his arms, he walked up to his room.  Closing the door, he dropped the laundry onto the bed before peeling off his clothing and tossing it onto the floor.  As he entered the small en suite bathroom, he caught his reflection in the mirror.  Stopping, he examined his blackened eye and the finger marks around his throat.  His last _client_ had become a little too rough during sex and at one point, Booker had feared for his life.  However, once the man had obtained his release, he had thankfully calmed down.  He had even paid Dennis extra for the _inconvenience_.  Booker thought it would be funny if it were not so sad.

Turning on the faucets, Booker stepped into the small cubicle.  Closing his eyes, he let the hot water wash away his shame.  Using the over scented hotel soap, he scrubbed frantically at his body but he did not feel clean.  Tears mingled with the water as he began to sob uncontrollably.  He knew he should be used to it by now but every time a man abused his body, it only added to his humiliation.  He was aware that part of his grief was because he had lost Harry and the others.  They had been together for over a year and to Dennis they were his family.  Another part of his sorrow was for Tom.  So young and beautiful and yet already so damaged.  He allowed the final part of his grief to be for himself.  It was not often that he let self-pity overwhelm him.  With it came the danger of depression and that often opened the doorway to drugs.  Numbing the mind was an easy way to deal with the violation that occurred on a daily basis.  But Booker had seen the aftermath of such decisions and it was not a path he wanted to choose.  Too often, it became a vicious cycle of needing the drugs to be able to prostitute and needing to prostitute just to pay for the drugs.  

As the water began to turn cool, Dennis turned off the faucets.  Stepping out of the shower, he slowly dried himself off.  He dressed in clean but tattered clothing before picking up the bag of Tom’s clothes and walking out the door.

**

It took Booker an hour to walk to the hospital and he arrived at a little after two in the afternoon.  Reception directed him to ward 3A, Room 6.  As he pushed open the door, Dennis was surprised to see that Tom was in a private room.   He walked over to the bed where Tom lay sleeping, the covers pulled protectively up to his chin.   Reaching out, Booker gently stroked at Tom’s dirty hair but he had barely made contact when Tom’s eyes flew open, blind terror staring out of the wide brown orbs as he grabbed Dennis’ wrist in a vice like grip and twisted it backwards.  “Don’t fucking touch me!” Tom screamed, his eyes flashing manically.  “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Tommy it’s me!” Dennis cried, the pain from Tom’s grip bringing tears to his eyes.  

It took several moments before the hysteria cleared from Tom’s face.  “Booker?” he whispered as he released his hold.  “I thought you were…”  Tom did not finish the sentence, instead adding in a voice full of desperation as he tried to climb out of bed, “Take me home.”

“Wait Tommy,” Booker replied as he gently prevented his injured friend from standing up.  “I spoke to a nurse and she said they’re keeping you in another night, just as a precaution.”

Tom’s face turned ashen.  “No!” he pleaded, as he grasped hold of Booker’s arm.  “I don’t want to stay here.  I don’t want _him_ to…”  His voice trailed off as a blank look slowly replaced his terrified expression.

Fear squeezed at Dennis’ heart.  “Don’t want _who_ to do _what_ Tommy?” he asked as he took Tom’s hand into his own.  “Talk to me, tell me what happened?”

Tom withdrew his hand and looked away, his face now passive.  “Nothing.  It doesn’t matter, not anymore.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dennis stared intently into Tom’s vacant eyes.  “Yes it does,” he replied softly, “ _You_ matter Tommy, you’ve got to start believing that.  Did someone do something to you?”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes but his face remained expressionless as he stared off into space.  “Even if they did, no one’s going to believe a filthy whore,” he whispered.

Anger coursed through Booker’s veins as his hands gripped at the bed sheets.  Some bastard had yet again abused Tom, this time within the sanctuary of a hospital.  He could not believe that another human being could be so callous as to take advantage of an injured teenager.   Making a snap decision, he stood up and took Tom’s clothing out of his bag.  Tossing them onto the bed, he held out his hand, “C’mon, let’s get you dressed, we’re leaving.”

Tom gave a relieved smile as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.   Dropping his feet to the floor, he used the bed as a support as he swayed unsteadily.  Booker checked through the cupboards for Tom’s belongings.  The jeans and shirt he had been wearing were too stained with blood to salvage but he grabbed the bandanna, denim waistcoat, socks and boots.  Removing Tom’s gown, Booker sucked in his breath but remained silent at the sight of his friend’s battered body.  He carefully helped Tom to dress before gently sitting him back on the bed.  Squatting down, he put on Tom’s socks and boots before standing up and carefully tying the bandanna around Tom’s head.  Holding out his hand he asked, “Ready?”

Tom nodded.  His face was extremely pale and for a fraction of a second, Dennis wondered if he was doing the right thing.  But having witnessed the suffering on Tom’s face he knew he could not leave him to be systematically abused within the confines of the hospital.  Putting an arm around his injured friend, he slowly helped him walk out of the room.  

Seeing Tom emerge fully dressed, a middle-aged nurse strode officiously towards them.  “Where are you going?  You need to get back to bed,” she instructed curtly. 

Booker gave her a withering look.  “Maybe if you took better care of your patients instead of allowing them to be _assaulted_ I’d let Tommy stay.  But I reckon he’s better off with me so I’m taking him home.”

Running her eyes up and down Dennis’ scruffy clothing, the nurse sneered at him.  “ _Home?_   You don’t have a home.”

Smiling placidly, Booker replied, “Yeah we do.  Home is wherever Tommy and I decide it to be.”   



	10. Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Seeing Tom emerge fully dressed, a middle-aged nurse strode officiously towards them.  “Where are you going?  You need to get back to bed,” she instructed curtly._
> 
> _Booker gave her a withering look.  “Maybe if you took better care of your patients instead of allowing them to be assaulted I’d let Tommy stay.  But I reckon he’s better off with me so I’m taking him home.”_
> 
> _Running her eyes up and down Dennis’ scruffy clothing, the nurse sneered at him.  “Home?  You don’t have a home.”_
> 
> _Smiling placidly, Booker replied, “Yeah we do.  Home is wherever Tommy and I decide it to be.”_

[**Solace**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=10) 

By the time the two boys had entered their room, Tom’s face was deathly pale and he was sweating profusely from pain and fatigue.  Booker guided him to the bed and gently tried to help him to sit down.  Tom refused, shaking his head back and forth, as he gasped for breath, “No… I need… I need to take a shower.”

Dennis understood Tom’s desire to get clean but he did not think he looked up to the task.  “Maybe later,” he suggested kindly, “You really look like you need to sit down.”

Exhausted tears sprang into Tom’s eyes.  “I need to get clean,” he whispered, as he began to sway on his feet.  “I need…” 

Tom’s knees buckled and Booker barely managed to catch his friend before he passed out.  Dragging Tom to the bed, Dennis was able to lay Tom down just as the teen's eyes fluttered open.  

“Sorry,” Tom murmured as he struggled to sit up.  

Booker smiled and sitting down on the bed he laid a hand on Tom’s leg.  “I really think the shower can wait.”

With a look of determination, Tom struggled to his feet.  “It _can’t_ wait,” he answered quietly, “But maybe you could… you know… help me?”

Dennis’ eyes widened in surprise.  “Are you sure?” he asked carefully, “I mean, wouldn’t you rather put it off for a while and—”

“I’ve had men’s hands all over my body Booker,” Tom snapped irritably.  “What difference does one more make?  And it’s what _you_ want isn’t it?  It’s what you’ve wanted since you first laid eyes on me.”

Tom’s words penetrated Dennis’ heart like a spear.   Standing up, he slowly backed away as vomit rose in his throat at the horror of Tom’s statement.  “Is _that_ how you see me?” he whispered in disbelief before his voice became hysterical, “You think I’m helping you so I can take _advantage_ of you?  My _friends_ left today and I didn’t go with them because I wanted to make sure _you_ were all right!  _FUCK YOU!_   You _FUCKING_ asshole!”

Closing his eyes, Tom steadied himself against the wall as Booker raged his anger against him.  He did not know why he had said that to Dennis.  He just felt so fucked up and lashing out at Booker seemed the easiest way at not having to deal with all that was going on in his mind.  His confusion at the arousal he now felt when strangers laid their hands on his body was confronting.  Part of him wanted Booker to touch him so he could see what happened and part of him wanted to piss Booker off so badly that he would up and leave and never come back.  He was convinced that the kindness the sixteen-year-old runaway had shown him was ill deserved.  He was trash and now that he actually _liked_ being touched up and fucked by men, he was _perverted trash_.

Suddenly aware that Booker had stopped yelling, Tom opened his eyes.  Seeing Dennis’ wounded expression tore at Tom’s heart.  All the pain and humiliation of the last few days welled up inside him and he burst into tears.  Throwing an arm over his face he attempted to push past Booker but the teen’s strong arms enveloped him into a comforting hug.  As he sobbed uncontrollably into Dennis’ chest he spluttered, “There’s so-so-something wr-wrong with m-me!”

Guiding Tom over to the bed, Booker sat down and pulled the sobbing boy down next to him.  “ _What’s_ wrong with you Tommy?” he asked as he gently disengaged Tom from his hold.

Wiping at his tears Tom desperately searched Dennis’ face, his eyes seeking out his friend’s in an attempt to make him understand.  As Booker shook his head in confusion, Tom answered in a whisper, his voice full of turmoil, “I came.  When Robbie Werner fucked me I _came!”_

Dennis stared back at Tom in amazement and a slight smile twitched at his lips.  Reaching out to cup Tom’s face in his hand, he managed to contain his amusement as he replied, “So?  That just means he did it right.  He hit your pleasure spot Tommy, that’s all.  And he wasn’t raping you, you agreed to have sex with him remember?  There’s a _big_ difference.  And you’re _fifteen_.  Most stimulation is gonna bring on a reaction, it’s all about hormones and stuff.”

Tom’s eyes widened at Booker’s explanation.  “Really?” he muttered, “So I’m _not_ a pervert?”

At Tom’s question, Dennis could no longer hold back his mirth.  Laughing aloud, he pulled Tom into a hug.  “Of course you’re not a pervert!  But if you are, I’m one too ‘cause there are times when I enjoy it, you know, when it feels good or when it’s with someone I care about.”

Staring at Booker, Tom noticed his friend’s face beginning to flush.  “You do it ‘cause you want to?” Tom asked in bewilderment.   “Who do you do it with?”

Rubbing his hand over his face, Booker sighed loudly in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.  “I dunno, I like going with Reliable Robbie, he sure gets the job done and you know… when I first met Harry we… for comfort you know?  But it didn’t last long.”

“Oh,” Tom replied as a small smile spread across his face.  “When I first met you I thought you and Judy were together, I never would have guessed...”  A frown quickly replaced his smile as he remembered what Dennis had said earlier.  “You said Judy and the others left.  Where did they go?”

Dennis stood up and began to throw his clean laundry back into his shopping bag.  “I dunno,” he replied despondently, “Back east somewhere.  It'll be safer for Dave and Erin.”

“Was it ‘cause of me?” Tom asked sadly.  “Did _I_ make them leave?”

Dennis stopped what he was doing and sat back down next to Tom.  “Of course not Tommy.  They left ‘cause it was the best thing to do.”

“Oh,” Tom replied, his tone subdued.  Staring at Booker, he noticed for the first time the blackened eye and red marks around his friend’s neck.   “Who hurt you?” he asked quietly.

Rubbing at his neck self consciously, Dennis averted his eyes.  “It’s nothing, a guy just got a little carried away.” 

Tom nodded, unsure of how to respond.  Instead of speaking, he stood up and slowly began to undress.  

This time Booker did not attempt to stop him.  His eyes traveled down Tom’s battered body as he stood in front of him wearing only his boxers.  “Are you in pain?” he asked quietly, as his hand reached out and gently touched the bandaged wound on his friend’s stomach.  

Tom shook his head but his face belied him.  “I’m fine, I just need a shower and some rest.”

Dropping his hand, Booker nodded.  “Okay, but leave the bathroom door open.”

Giving a small smile of reassurance, Tom slowly walked into the en suite.  When Dennis heard the water running, he lay down on the bed and listened closely for any small sound that might indicate that Tom was in trouble.  But half an hour later, Tom emerged smelling of hotel soap, a towel wrapped around his narrow waist and his damp hair ruffled from a finger comb.  Booker watched from his vantage point on the bed as Tom rummaged through his bag and pulled out another pair of boxers.  As he dropped his towel and pulled them on, Dennis tried desperately to keep his feelings under control.  The last thing Tommy needed was for him to show how aroused he felt when he saw him naked.  Turning around, Tom walked over to the bed and pulling back the covers, he climbed in and closed his eyes.  

Booker quietly undressed down to his boxers.  Lying down on the bed, he remained above the covers watching Tom sleep, his eyes transfixed on the beautiful face that in slumber, finally looked peaceful.

**

Awakening to a darkened room, Tom groaned in pain.  He had left the hospital so abruptly he did not have any pain medication.  Moaning quietly, he rolled over in an effort to find a comfortable position.  Two brown eyes shone out of the darkness, illuminated by the moonlight that glimmered through a chink in the ill-fitting curtains.

“Are you okay Tommy?” Booker whispered, his voice weary from lack of sleep.

Tom nodded but realizing that Dennis probably could not see him, he answered, “I’m just a bit uncomfortable, I’ll be okay.”

Booker leaned over and switched on the bedside lamp.  As the soft glow lightened the room, Dennis could see Tom’s face etched in pain.  Rolling out of bed, he pulled on his jeans and headed for the door.  “I’ll see if Morty’s got any paracetamol, it might help a little.”

Lying in bed waiting for Booker to return, Tom thought about Doug.  He wondered if his brother was finding it rough in juvenile detention.  He was well aware that his brother was capable of taking care of himself but there was always a chance that someone bigger and tougher would take a dislike to you and make your life hell.  Hearing the bedroom door open, Tom quickly wiped away the tears that once again slid down his cheeks.  Dennis went into the bathroom and poured some water into a glass.  Returning, he sat on the bed and popped two tablets out of their seals.

“Here,” he said, handing the pills and the glass to Tom.  “It’s not much but it should take the edge off.”

Tom struggled to a sitting position and placing the tablets on his tongue, he swallowed them down with a drink of water.  “Thanks,” he muttered before putting the glass on the bedside table and lying back down.  Booker returned to the other side of the bed and taking off his jeans, he once again lay on top of the covers.  Tom turned towards him, moaning slightly at the effort.  “Why don’t you get under the covers?” he asked quietly, “Aren’t you cold?”

Booker did not reply straight away, but when he did, his voice was sad.  “I thought maybe you’d think… I dunno, maybe you’d think I was gonna try something with you.”

“Oh,” Tom answered, as he realized how his earlier words had affected Dennis.  Reaching out, he touched Booker’s arm.  “I didn’t mean what I said.  I know you wouldn’t do anything unless I was okay with it.”

Dennis almost blurted out, _“Are you okay with it?”_ but he bit his tongue just in time.  Climbing under the covers, he gazed at his friend’s pale face, as he gently brushed the hair back from Tom’s eyes.   When he did not pull away, Dennis slowly continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  Sighing deeply, Tom’s blackened eyelids fluttered as he allowed himself to be comforted. 

“Mmm,” Tom murmured sleepily, “Doug used to stroke my hair when I was little and Dad had—”

“Hush,” Booker commanded soothingly, as his fingers lightly played with Tom’s hair, “No more talking, it’s time to sleep.”

Tom’s eyelids grew heavier.  Moving slowly across the bed, he could feel Dennis’ body heat against him.   Relaxing against the warmth, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

  
   



	11. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously:  Dennis almost blurted out, “Are you okay with it?” but he bit his tongue just in time.  Climbing under the covers, he gazed at his friend’s pale face, as he gently brushed the hair back from Tom’s eyes.   When he did not pull away, Dennis slowly continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  Sighing deeply, Tom’s blackened eyes fluttered as he allowed himself to be comforted._
> 
> _“Mmm,” Tom murmured sleepily, “Doug used to stroke my hair when I was little and Dad had—”_
> 
> _“Hush,” Booker commanded soothingly, as his fingers lightly played with Tom’s hair, “No more talking, it’s time to sleep.”_
> 
> _Tom’s eyelids grew heavier.  Moving slowly across the bed, he could feel Dennis’ body heat against him.   Relaxing against the warmth, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.  
> _

[**Revelations**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=11) 

Awakening to the sound of rain, Tom slowly opened his eyes.  No sun light filtered through the crack in the curtain, making the room gloomy and cold.  It took several moments before Tom’s brain acknowledged the heaviness on his body.  Looking down, he saw that Booker’s arm lay draped across his waist.  At first, embarrassment washed over him at the thought of Dennis holding him in such a loving way.  But as he became aware of his back touching Booker’s chest, he slowly realized how comforting it was to lie so intimately with another human being.  He could feel Dennis’ breath against his neck and a shiver of arousal ran through his body as his heart rate quickened.  Closing his eyes, he allowed his body to take pleasure in the contact with Booker’s skin.  His cock began to swell and before he could control himself, he let out a soft moan.  Aware of movement beside him, he sat up in bed with a jolt, crying out as his bruised ribs flared from the sudden agitation.

Wrapping his arms around his chest, Tom blinked back tears of pain.  He felt a soft caress against his skin as Booker tenderly rubbed his bruised back.  

“Hey Tommy, are you all right?” Dennis asked in concern as his fingers continued their gentle movement over Tom’s damaged skin.

Nodding, Tom turned and managed a watery smile.  “Yeah, I guess I sat up too quick.”

Smiling tranquilly, Booker replied in a somewhat teasing tone.  “Well, why don’t you lie back down?”

Tom could not help but grin.  “Asshole,” he laughed, as he felt his earlier fears dissipate.  Lying carefully back down, he stared up at the cracked ceiling.  He had so many thoughts racing through his brain but he was too afraid to voice them.   Sensing Booker’s gaze upon him, he rolled onto his side.  He smiled at Dennis’ ruffled hair and sleepy expression.  Tom thought he looked more like the boy next door than the bad boy image he tried to portray.   

“What?” Booker asked softly, his voice still drowsy.  
   
About to reply _“nothing,”_ Tom suddenly found himself asking, “Have you ever been in love?”

A slow smile spread across Booker’s face.  “Wow Tommy, that’s a heavy question first thing in the morning.  Why do you wanna know?”

A pink flush tinged Tom’s cheeks and he ducked his head in embarrassment.  “I dunno,” he replied, as his finger traced a pattern on the duvet.  “I was just thinking that…” his voice trailed off and after a few moments he murmured, “It doesn’t matter, forget it.”

Getting the impression that Tom really wanted to discuss something but did not know how to broach the subject, Booker pushed gently, “Tell me.”

Feeling foolish at having started the conversation, Tom’s flush deepened.  Sometimes he felt like such a child.  Over the last few days, he had come to realize that Doug was the tough one.  Without his brother by his side, he felt weak and helpless.  Since leaving home, all he had done was cry.  He had always thought that people were afraid of him but now he knew it was Doug that they feared, he was just little Tommy McQuaid, Doug’s baby brother.  He was inexperienced in the behaviors of normal fifteen-year-old boys.  The abuse at home had prevented him from developing relationships with his peers.   Doug had been the only other teenager in his life and because of his lack of contact with others his age, he often felt emotionally stunted.  

Lifting his head, he met Booker’s compassionate gaze.  He swallowed deeply before murmuring, “Everything I’ve been through, all the things that have been done to me and…”  Lowering his eyes, he whispered, “I’ve never been kissed.”

The revelation stunned Dennis completely.  Never in his wildest dreams would he have thought that was possible.  Tom was so unbelievably gorgeous, that he imagined he would have had loads of girls lining up to date him, regardless of the rough exterior.   Seeing Tom’s mortified expression at having revealed such an intimate secret, Booker gave an sympathetic smile.  “Hey, that doesn’t mean anything.  Your life’s been tough, it’s understandable—”

“ _IS IT?”_ Tom yelled hysterically, his face distorted with anguish.  “I always thought the kissing part came first.  But no, the first thing I learnt was how to give head!  For _fuck’s_ _sake_ , how fucking screwed up is _that_?”  Determined not to cry, he quickly turned away so he would not have to witness the pity on Dennis’ face.  

A heavy silence hung in the air until Dennis finally spoke, “Look at me Tommy.”

Stubbornly shaking his head, Tom remained staring at the open door of the bathroom.  After several moments, Booker climbed out of bed and walking around to the opposite side, he sat down next to Tom.  Sweeping Tom’s long bangs from his face, Dennis gave his friend an supportive smile.  “It’s your Dad who took your childhood from you Tommy, he’s the one to blame.  Is it fucked up?  Of course it is.  But you mustn’t feel inadequate because someone else forced their screwed up life on you.”  Stroking Tom’s hair he paused for a moment before continuing in a soft voice, “I promise you, one day you’ll find someone to love and they’re gonna love you back just as much.”

Tom sat up slowly, his eyes misty with unshed tears.  “Do you really think so?” he asked shyly.

Booker pulled him into a gentle hug, being careful not hurt his damaged body.  “I know so,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, wishing he could be the one to show Tommy how wonderful true love really felt.

**

Both boys fell back to sleep for several more hours.  Dennis woke first and as he climbed out of bed, he was careful not to wake Tom.  Pulling back the curtain just enough so he could peer out, he saw that the rain had stopped.  He stood for several minutes watching the people on the footpaths below scurrying back and forth, going about their daily business.  He spotted several street kids he knew pan handling on the corner.  Few people stopped to throw loose change into the baseball caps lying on the pavement.  Booker knew how hard it was to make any money by begging but it was always worth a try.  Anything was better than the alternative.

Turning away and letting the curtain drop back, he stared at Tom.  The bruising around Tom’s eyes and face were still a vivid shade of red.  He knew it must be painful, along with the damage to Tom’s ribs, the knife wound and the various other contusions covering the slim body.  But Tom had made no real complaint, leading Booker to the conclusion that severe beatings were a regular occurrence in Tom’s life.  His eyes moved over to the digital clock on the nightstand.  The red luminous numbers informed him that it was 11:06am.  Grabbing up his clothes, he walked into the bathroom.

Exiting a half hour later, he saw Tom standing at the window.  He walked over and silently stood next to his friend but instead of looking down at the swarming crowds, he studied Tom’s pale face.  He could see the pain reflected in the brown eyes and putting an arm around Tom’s slim waist, he gently steered him back towards the bed.  

Grateful to be back under the warm covers, Tom gave Booker a half smile but it quickly disappeared when he saw Dennis pulling on his boots.  “Where are you going?” he asked, his brow knitting into a worried frown.

Booker grinned back.  “It’s not what you think, we’ve got enough money for a few days.  I thought I’d bring you breakfast in bed or…” he indicated towards the clock, “lunch in bed, seeing as it’s nearly midday.”

Tom beamed back happily.  “Lunch, then we can have burgers.”

“Burgers it is,” Dennis replied cheerfully.  “But I’ve got an errand to run first so I’ll be gone for a while.  Will you be okay?”

“Sure,” Tom replied lazily, “Just chuck us the remote and I’ll watch TV.”

Booker threw the rectangular device onto the bed.   Grabbing his jacket, he said goodbye to Tom and left the room.

**

Returning two hours later, Booker opened the door to see that Tom had showered and dressed.  He placed the bag of burgers on the bedside table and sat down on the bed as Tom struggled to a sitting position next to him.  As they started eating, Tom spied a second larger bag sitting on the floor.  Speaking with a mouth full of food he mumbled, “What’s that?”

Dennis put down his burger and reached in the bag.  First, he pulled out some non-prescription pain medication and tossed them onto the bed.  Secondly, he pulled out a long, grey trench coat.  “I went to the second hand store and got you this.  I know it’ll be too big but it’ll keep you warm.”

Tom smiled through a mouth full of burger.  Swallowing down his food, he stood up and tried on the coat.  It reached almost to his ankles and was a little too broad across the shoulders but otherwise it fit well.  A deep sense of gratitude washed over him.  Booker had spent money on something that was really a luxury.  Spending money on such an item meant that he would be back on the streets sooner than what would have been necessary.  Heaving a sad sigh, Tom took off the coat and after throwing it on to the bed, he sat back down and resumed eating.  “Thanks,” he muttered, averting his eyes from Dennis’ gaze.  “But you shouldn’t have.”

Narrowing his eyes, Booker stared at Tom.  “Don’t you like it?” he asked.  He felt deflated at the lack of reaction.  He had been so sure that the coat would be the sort that Tommy would like.

Feeling like an asshole for not showing his gratitude, Tom wiped his mouth and turned to face Booker.  “I love it,” he replied, managing a small smile.  “But you shouldn’t have spent the money on me.  It just means you have to go back out—”

“I’m gonna have go back out eventually anyway Tommy,” Booker answered sadly, “And you needed a coat, you’ll never survive the winter without one.”

The thought that he would still be on the streets come winter made Tom’s heart sink.  He had only been away from home a few days and within that short space of time, he had managed to be duped, beaten up and sexually molested.  God only knew what the next six months would hold if his first couple of days were any indication.  A dark cloud descended over him.  He was not sure he could do it for that long, even with Booker by his side.  

Seeing the change in Tom’s mood, Dennis laid a hand against Tom’s bruised cheek.  “Hey,” he murmured in a comforting tone.  “What’s going on?”

Tom’s big, brown eyes met Booker’s gaze.  “I don’t think I keep doing this,” he whispered, feeling even more pathetic as the words left his mouth.

Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart at the thought of losing his new friend.  “Do you want to go home?” he asked quietly, afraid of what the answer would be.

Tom remained silent for several minutes as he thought over his options.  Going home would mean dealing with his father’s physical and sexual abuse.  It would mean having no one to talk to and no one to comfort him when he was hurting.  Staying on the streets meant prostitution and the possibility of physical harm.  But it also meant having Booker as a companion, someone who knew exactly what he was going through.  Booker offered both friendship and comfort and having finally experienced the two, Tom knew he could not give them up.  Rubbing his face with his hands, he turned and faced Dennis.  Smiling, he mumbled awkwardly, “I want to stay with you.”

The tightness in Dennis’ chest relaxed and he smiled happily.  “Good, ‘cause I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”  



	12. Falling Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom’s big, brown eyes met Booker’s gaze.  “I don’t think I keep doing this,” he whispered, feeling even more pathetic as the words left his mouth._
> 
> _Coldness gripped at Dennis’ heart at the thought of losing his new friend.  “Do you want to go home?” he asked quietly, afraid of what the answer would be._
> 
> _Tom remained silent for several minutes as he thought over his options.  Going home would mean dealing with his father’s physical and sexual abuse.  It would mean having no one to talk to and no one to comfort him when he was hurting.  Staying on the streets meant prostitution and the possibility of physical harm.  But it also meant having Booker as a companion, someone who knew exactly what he was going through.  Booker offered both friendship and comfort and having finally experienced the two, Tom knew he could not give them up.  Rubbing his face with his hands, he turned and faced Dennis.  Smiling, he mumbled awkwardly, “I want to stay with you.”_
> 
> _The tightness in Dennis’ chest relaxed and he smiled happily.  “Good, ‘cause I’m kind of getting used to having you around.”_

[**Falling Apart**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=12) 

Several days passed before money once again became an issue.  Despite assurances to the contrary, Booker did not think Tom was well enough to sleep rough, which meant going back on the game.  

Waking early in the morning, Tom felt Dennis’ now familiar embrace holding him tight.  Sighing contentedly, he wriggled backwards so he could enjoy the heat radiating from Booker’s body.  As he made contact, he felt the hardness of Booker’s cock pushing against him.  He immediately stopped moving and held his breath.  

Dennis moaned in his sleep as he pulled Tom closer.  In a semi conscious state, he began to grind himself against Tom’s backside.  As his cock began to swell, he opened his eyes so he could fully enjoy what was about to follow.  Seeing Tom’s bruised back in front of him he pulled away with a cry of alarm.  “Jesus Tommy, I’m sorry!  I was asleep, I didn’t… _JESUS!”_

Inwardly composing himself from the initial shock, Tom rolled over.  He had known for a while that Booker fancied him; he just had not expected him to act on it so quickly.  He had seen the covert glances when he was dressing or undressing and at first, he felt panicked at the thought of Booker touching him in _that_ way.  But over the last few days, he had made the decision that if Dennis wanted to have sex with him, he would allow it.  More than anything, he wanted to keep his friend happy, especially now that he was the only one going out and earning money to keep them both housed and fed.  It was a small sacrifice to make, considering everything Booker was sacrificing for him. 

Taking a deep, calming breath, he smiled sweetly as his finger trailed down Dennis’ naked torso before stopping just above the waistband of his boxer’s.  “Do you want me to help you?” he murmured as his fingers slipped underneath the elastic and entwined themselves around Booker’s erect cock.  “I know you—”

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Dennis yelled, as he pulled Tom’s hand roughly away.  “I was asleep!  I didn’t know it was _you!”_

Tom pouted angrily as humiliation burned his face.  “I thought you wanted it,” he retorted crossly.  “I wanted to pay you back for everything you’ve done for me.”

“PAY ME _BACK?”_ Booker screamed, as he jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on his jeans and shirt.  “Spoken like a true whore!”

Tears pricked at Tom’s eyes as Booker’s words seared deep into his heart.  “I’m n-not a wh-whore!” he sobbed, “I j-just w-wanted to m-make you h-happy.”

Pulling on his boots, Booker turned to face the anguished teen.  “Yeah?  Well guess what?” he replied as he stomped over to the door.  “You doing _that_ does _not_ make me happy.”  As he exited the room, he slammed the door loudly behind him.

Angrily wiping the tears from his face, Tom stood up and began to dress.  “Fuck you,” he muttered under his breath and grabbing his coat, he headed outside to the chaos of the streets.

**

Walking briskly along the wet pavement, Booker hunched his shoulders against the wind.  He knew he should be soliciting on a street corner rather than walking off his bad mood but he needed time to think before he could deal with servicing a client.  He walked several blocks before his breathing had calmed to a normal rate.  Several blocks later and he began to regret his outburst.  Tom was such a fucked up kid it was little wonder he had thought he needed to repay Dennis’ kindness.  What bothered Booker the most though, was that Tom _knew_ that he wanted him.  He thought he had managed to keep his true feelings buried whilst still showing Tom love and kindness.  Tommy was obviously more astute than Booker had given him credit.  The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was to blame, not Tom.  It saddened him to think that Tom thought the only way he could thank Booker was with sexual favors.  

Feeling sick, he remembered that he had called Tom a whore.  He knew all too well the feeling of degradation that _he_ felt when labeled in such a way.  The more he thought about it, the more he realized what a hypocrite he was.  Here _he_ was, walking the streets getting ready to suck some guy’s dick for money.  Not only that, but he _did_ want Tommy’s fingers wrapped around his cock.  What stopped him was that he was terrified of taking advantage of a boy who had only been on the streets for a week.  Not that he wanted sexual favors as gratitude.  If he and Tom were ever going to have a sexual relationship, he needed it to be because Tommy wanted it, not because the teenager felt obliged to do it.

Exhaling loudly, Booker turned around and began walking back to his usual corner.  

**

As Tom exited the hotel, he took a moment to look at his surroundings.  He was still unfamiliar with the streets but he was sure if he stopped on any corner, someone would proposition him.  He wanted money and he wanted it fast.  He needed to numb the pain in his heart and mind and there was only one way he could think of doing that; drugs and alcohol.  Crossing the street, he walked several minutes before he stopped on a corner outside a seedy looking hotel.  It did not take long before a middle-aged man approached him and offered him twenty dollars for a blowjob.  Tom agreed on the condition that the man purchase him a bottle of cheap whiskey.  The deal sealed, he followed his client down a side alley.  They emerged ten minutes later and true to his word, the john found a liquor store and bought the whiskey.  Depositing the bottle into his coat pocket, Tom set out on his second mission; pills.  During his convalescence, he had spent several hours staring out of his window.   He had become familiar with one particular street kid, a rough looking teen who begged outside of a 7-Eleven across the road.  He had witnessed many dealings from the refuge of his hotel room.  All he had to do was find the boy.

It took a frustratingly long time for Tom to locate the teen but only seconds to secure a deal.  With most of his money now gone, Tom returned to the sanctuary of the hotel.  Switching on the TV, he sat on the edge of the bed and opened the bottle of whiskey.  He knocked back several large swigs before turning his attention to the pills.  Pulling two Percodan from his pocket, he swallowed them down with another gulp of whiskey.  The pain in his body slowly began to subside as the drugs took effect.  It took longer for his mind to become comfortably numb but eventually the mixture of drugs and half a bottle of alcohol took hold.  Sinking from the bed to the floor, his head lolled to the side as he fell into a drug induced stupor.  

**

Having secured enough money to keep both he and Tom housed for another few nights, Booker slowly made his way up the hotel’s narrow creaking staircase.  He had practiced his apology repeatedly in his mind and he hoped that Tom would forgive him for reacting the way he had.  He did not want his friend to carry the burden of responsibility for what had happened.  He felt he was far more to blame for the mix up than Tom was.  As way of an apology, Dennis had stopped off at Joey’s and bought two burgers with the lot, large fries and a bottle of cola.  It was not a very healthy meal but he knew how much Tom enjoyed it.  

Opening the door to their room, he started to call out but stopped when he saw Tom lying on the floor.  Seeing the half-empty bottle of whisky in Tom’s hand, Booker dropped the carry bag of food to the floor. “Tommy!” he cried as he ran over to kneel beside his friend’s unconscious body.  Lowering his head next to Tom’s, he could hear shallow breathing.  Relief flooded over him.  All too often, a runaway died from a drug and alcohol overdose.  It was a sad fact of street life, which was why Booker avoided using either as a means of comfort.

Needing to know what he was dealing with, Dennis rummaged through Tom’s pockets.  He found several Percodan in the pocket of Tom’s grey trench coat.  Placing them on the bedside table, he put his arms around Tom’s chest and slowly dragged him backwards towards the bathroom.   Laying Tom gently on the floor, Booker set the shower to cold and once again wrapping his arms around Tom’s unconscious form, he heaved him into the cubicle.  Using all his strength, he managed to get Tom to a standing position by keeping his arms firmly around Tom’s chest and using the tiled wall as support.  As the freezing water surged over both boys, Tom started to moan.  The veil of fog lifted from Tom’s mind and he began to struggle to free himself from the vice like grip squeezing at his chest.  Dennis held firm, managing to keep Tom under the water for another two minutes.  Eventually breaking free, Tom lashed out viciously, his fist connecting with Booker’s face.  Cracking his head painfully against the shower wall, Dennis immediately fought back.  Grabbing Tom, he shoved him violently out of the shower stall.  Tom cried out as his bruised back hit the corner of the sink.  Blind rage flooded through Tom’s body as he charged at Dennis, both boys ending up of the floor of the shower as the cold water cascaded over them.  Booker instantly got the upper hand and he slammed his fist hard into Tom’s damaged face.  Blood spurted from the teen’s nose and dark red droplets mixed with the flowing water.  Defeated, Tom collapsed onto the shower floor as he began to throw up from the effects of the alcohol and pills.  Standing up, Dennis stepped out of the cubical, leaving Tom lying on the floor as vomit and blood swirled down the drain.  Leaning against the sink, Booker caught his breath before stepping back into the shower and turning off the faucet.  Tom lay gasping on the wet tiled floor as blood continued to drip from his nose.  As Dennis leaned down and attempted to help him up, Tom pulled away angrily, spitting blood as he yelled, “FUCK _OFF!”_

Holding his hands up in surrender, Booker silently backed out of the cubical.  Grabbing a towel, he walked into the bedroom, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him.  Stripping off his soaking wet clothing, he quickly dried himself off before pulling on boxers and jeans.  Grabbing up his wet garments in one arm, he picked up the Percodan tablets and walked back into the bathroom.  Throwing the drenched bundle of clothes onto the floor, he gazed at Tom who was still lying on the floor, his thin body shivering from cold.  Tossing the tablets into the sink, Booker gave his friend a withering look.  “These,” he said, as he turned on the faucet and washed the pills down the drain, “are never helpful.”

“What do you know,” Tom mumbled resentfully.

Booker gave Tom a stony look.  “More than you, you fuckwit.  If you want to drink and take drugs, you’re on your own, ‘cause no way in _hell_ am I coming home one day to find you dead on the floor from an overdose.”  Bending down to pick up his sodden clothing, he walked out of the bathroom and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.

Tom pulled his aching body into a sitting position.  His head swam and for a moment, he feared he might once again vomit.  As the room stopped spinning, he pulled his legs up and wrapping his arms around them, he began to slowly rock back and forth.  It was something he used to do as a means of comfort when he was young and first experiencing the sexual molestation at he hands of his father.  He let his mind wander to the special place where his mother still existed and their family was a happy one.  Silent tears poured down his face as his imagination ran free.  It was so much easier living in a fantasy world than in reality and he wished he could close his eyes and stay there forever.  Time slowed down and he had no idea how long he sat shivering in the shower cubicle before he was aware that Booker was squatting in front of him.

“Hey Tommy,” Dennis murmured softly, no sign of his previous anger evident in his voice.  “Let’s get you dry before you catch cold.”

Having no energy left to fight, Tom allowed Booker to help him from the shower stall.  He stood meekly as his friend undressed him and rubbed him dry.  As Dennis led him to the bed, he felt hot tears once again burning at his lids.  Naked and vulnerable, he pulled away from Booker’s embrace and climbing under the covers, he turned away and sobbed into his pillow.  

Deciding to give Tom some privacy, Booker picked up Tom’s wet clothing and silently left the room.  As he walked down the stairs to the basement, he marveled at how quickly things had changed.  In less than two weeks, he had made a new friend but in doing so, had lost four.   It now appeared his new friend might not be who he initially thought him to be.  It frightened Dennis to think of Tom turning so easily to alcohol and prescription medication.  

Tossing Tom’s clothes into the machine along with his own, he closed the lid and started the cycle.  Closing his eyes, he felt tears prick against his lids.  He did not want to lose Tom from his life, but keeping him in it might end up being just as painful.

**

After returning to their room, Dennis had found Tom fast asleep.  Standing at the end of the bed, he stared at Tom’s battered face.  He felt an overwhelming sense of guilt when he noticed the fresh bruising under Tom’s eyes.  Everything had turned to shit and he was ultimately responsible.  If he had kept his feelings for Tom hidden, nothing would have happened.  Sighing heavily, he grabbed a spare blanket from the wardrobe and curling up on the battered armchair, he fell into a fitful sleep.  He awoke several times in the night to check on Tom but each time he found him asleep.  Eventually allowing his tortured mind to relax, he fell into a deep, coma like slumber.

Booker awoke to the sound of thunder.  Hearing the traffic noise rising up from the street below, he knew he must have slept late.  Painfully extricating himself from his cramped sleeping position, his eyes searched the room for Tom.  His heart began to pound when he realized that the room was empty.  Standing up and hobbling to the bathroom, he saw that it too was vacant.  Rubbing at a painful crick in his neck, he tried not to panic.  Tom might have gone out to buy breakfast, or he could be downstairs talking to Morty.  Booker rapidly searched the untidy room for any clues as to Tom’s whereabouts.  His eyes eventually settled on a torn piece of burger wrapper lying on the nightstand.  Picking it up, Dennis’ heart sank as he read the barely legible scrawl:  _**I fuked up.  Im sorry.  Dont look fore me.  I dont want to be fownd.**_

“Oh Tommy,” Booker whispered, as he reread the note.  Looking around the room, he saw Tom’s bag and clothing were gone but the trench coat lay across the end of the bed.  Searching through his own jacket pocket, he found the money he had made the day before.  Counting it, he realized that no money was missing.  That meant that Tom was on the streets, alone and penniless.  

Ignoring his growling stomach, Booker grabbed up his jacket and headed out onto the bustling city streets in search of his friend.  



	13. Finding Forgiveness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Booker awoke to the sound of thunder.  Hearing the traffic noise rising up from the street below, he knew he must have slept late.  Painfully extricating himself from his cramped sleeping position, his eyes searched the room for Tom.  His heart began to pound when he realized that the room was empty.  Standing up and hobbling to the bathroom, he saw that it too was vacant.  Rubbing at a painful crick in his neck, he tried not to panic.  Tom might have gone out to buy breakfast, or he could be downstairs talking to Morty.  Booker rapidly searched the untidy room for any clues as to Tom’s whereabouts.  His eyes eventually settled on a torn piece of burger wrapper lying on the nightstand.  Picking it up, Dennis’ heart sank as he read the barely legible scrawl: **I fuked up.  Im sorry.  Dont look fore me.  I dont want to be fownd.**_
> 
> _“Oh Tommy,” Booker whispered, as he reread the note.  Looking around the room, he saw Tom’s bag and clothing were gone but the trench coat lay across the end of the bed.  Searching through his own jacket pocket, he found the money he had made the day before.  Counting it, he realized that no money was missing.  That meant that Tom was on the streets, alone and penniless._
> 
> _Ignoring his growling stomach, Booker grabbed up his jacket and headed out onto the bustling city streets in search of his friend._   
> 

[**Finding Forgiveness**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=13) 

Standing on a street corner several blocks from The Exeter, Tom shivered with cold, as a heavy rain soaked through his thin clothing.  Lightning tore open the sky as loud claps of thunder sounded overhead.  More than anything, he wished he were back inside the hotel, safe and warm, with Booker for company.  He quickly pushed his self-pitying thoughts aside.   If he were to survive on the streets alone, he needed to toughen up.  He had to accept that he no longer had Booker to take care of him.  His number one priority now was to make money.  There was no reason why he could not stay on his own in one of the cheap hotels, he did not have to rough it on the streets at night.  As much as he hated it, he was well aware that he had an advantage over most male prostitutes.  He was young, slim and pretty.  Not what most boys would want to be but in his current situation, it was almost a blessing.  Now all he needed was for someone to notice him.

A familiar brown Datsun pulled up to the curb.  Tom smiled.  _Good ol’ Reliable Robbie to the rescue,_ he thought.  At least he knew what to expect from the man.  There would be no nasty surprises waiting for him this time and maybe he could just lay back and try to _enjoy_ the sex.  He was desperate for someone to show him love.  He needed someone to hold and caress him and tell him that everything would be all right.  Robbie Werner was just the man to do all of that.

Avoiding the overflowing gutter, Tom leaned forward and opened the car door.  Robbie greeted him with a smile.  “Hop in out of the rain Tommy,” he invited cheerfully.  “Let’s go someplace dry.”

Grateful to be out of the rain, Tom buckled up his seat belt and gave Werner his sweetest smile.  “Whatever you say Robbie, it’ll be a hundred bucks.”

Robbie laughed pleasantly.  “A hundred dollars!  Last time it was seventy.”

“Yeah well,” Tom smiled back, “I’ve decided to give myself a pay rise.”

Looking Tom up and down, Robbie knew he would pay double to have the pretty, young boy in his bed again.  Nodding his agreement, he drove to the same hotel he had taken Tom to previously.  Paying for the room, he whispered something to the hotel clerk and taking his key, he escorted Tom up the stairs.

As Robbie unlocked the door, a feeling of déjà vu had Tom pausing in the doorway.  A wave of nausea washed over him and closing his eyes, he steadied himself against the doorjamb.   He felt Robbie’s arm around his shoulder and opening his eyes, he managed a weak smile.  “Sorry, guess I’m a little hungry and it’s making me dizzy.”

Smiling sympathetically, Robbie took Tom’s hand and led him into an almost identical room to the one they had been in before.  Pulling out his wallet, he handed Tom two, crisp fifty-dollar bills.  Tom took them and shoved them in his pocket with a slight nod of thanks.  Pulling off his bandanna, he threw it onto the floor and started to undress.  Naked except for his boxers, he walked over to the bed but before he could lie down, Robbie laid a hand on his shoulder.  “How about, before we get started, you take a shower, I’ll get your clothes dry and we’ll order a pizza,” Robbie suggested, as his gaze traveled the length of Tom’s body.

Tom’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.  “Why?” he asked warily, “I thought you just wanted to fuck me.”

Werner gave a reassuring smile.  “I do, but as I am now paying forty percent more, I think that entitles me to a little extra time, don’t you?”

Giving it some thought, Tom could find no reason not to take Robbie at his word.  “Okay,” he replied, “But I want pepperoni.”

Robbie smiled before answering in a low, enticing voice, “Fine, but I get to join you in the shower.”

Tom rubbed his hand nervously over his lips before nodding his agreement.  He waited until Werner had dialed the local pizza bar and placed an order before walking into the bathroom.  He heard the room door open and close as Robbie took his wet clothing down to the hotel clerk.  He stood waiting until he heard Werner re-enter the room.  Pushing has damp hair off his face; he slipped off his boxers and turned on the faucets just as a naked Robbie entered the bathroom.  Blushing slightly, Tom stepped under the warm stream of water and waited for Robbie to join him.  He jumped slightly when he felt Robbie’s hands on his hips.  “Shh,” Werner whispered against Tom’s neck as he stood behind him, “You’re a good boy Tommy, a _very_ good boy.”  Rubbing his hands over Tommy’s bruised skin, Robbie’s tone became soothing, “I would never hurt you, you know that.”

Tom felt Robbie’s smooth hands travel down his chest to his stomach before making their way back up.  He could feel the man’s erect cock pushing against him and for a moment, he forgot to breathe.  He gasped when he felt a hand gently stroke his cock, bringing it to life.  He braced his hands against the white tiled wall, as Robbie caressed, and tugged at his growing erection.  His breath hitched as a finger entered his hole, followed by a second.  Werner whispered in his ear, telling him to relax and enjoy it.  Tom’s head hung down as the warm water cascaded over his body.  As Robbie removed his probing fingers, Tom suddenly panicked.  Looking quickly over his shoulder, he sighed in relief when he saw Robbie’s cock sheathed in a black condom.  He turned his head back to the wall and closed his eyes.  He could feel Robbie pushing against him, trying to gain access.  He bit down on his lip as Werner’s cock thrust past his tight wall of muscle.  Robbie groaned in pleasure when he felt himself finally enter Tom’s body.  Bracing one arm against the wall, he rocked his hips forward and backwards, as his free hand tugged at Tom’s erection.  Finding his rhythm, he increased his pace, gasping heavily as his arousal grew.  Tom’s eyes flew open.  “FUCK!” he cried out as Robbie’s cock slammed against his prostate.  Robbie grunted loudly at Tom’s obvious enjoyment and his thrusting intensified.  He tugged harder at Tommy’s cock and gained his reward when he heard a scream of pleasure and felt warm semen trickle through his fingers.  Two thrusts later and he too reached orgasm.  Shuddering with pleasure, he waited for his climax to diminish, before withdrawing from Tom’s body. 

Pulling off his condom, Robbie threw it into the sink.  Taking a brief moment to run his hands once again over Tom’s slender body, he sighed with satisfaction and stepped out of the shower.  Grabbing a towel, he quickly dried himself off before reaching over and turning off the faucets.  “Come on,” he said to Tom softly, “Let’s get you dry.”

Tom stepped out of the shower and stood submissively as Robbie slowly rubbed a towel over his body.  When he was dry, Werner wrapped the towel around Tom’s narrow waist and taking him by the hand, he led him back to the bedroom.  Standing in the middle of the room, Tom wondered what he was supposed to do.  He had no clothing and Robbie Werner had already had his way with him.  He wondered how long between orgasms a man needed before he was able to get another erection.  Looking at the bedside clock, he saw that forty-five minutes had already passed.  He had no idea how long Werner expected him to stay.  He figured once his clothing had dried and he had eaten his pizza he would be able to go.  With a sigh, he sat on the bed and watched Robbie dress.  His stomach grumbled with hunger and just as he was about to ask Robbie how long it would be until the pizza arrived, a loud knock on the door cut him off.

Strapping on his Rolex, Robbie walked to the door and opened it just a crack.  Tommy could hear a whispered conversation and he immediately felt vulnerable.  Looking quickly around the room, he picked up the bedside lamp in case he needed a weapon to defend himself.  As the door opened, his fingers slid from the base and the lamp fell to the floor.  “Booker?” he whispered, as Dennis entered the room.  “What are you doing here?”

Tears pricked at Booker’s lids when he saw Tommy standing next to the bed, dressed only in a towel.  Rushing forward, he threw his arms around his startled friend and gave him a tight squeeze.  Pulling away, his face quickly darkened and he gave Tom a hard thump on the shoulder.  “Why the fuck did you leave?  You scared the hell out of me!”

Rubbing at his shoulder, Tommy lowered his gaze.  “Sorry,” he muttered, “I thought you’d be better off without me.”

“Jesus Tommy!” Booker cried as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.  “We had a fight, that’s all.  It’s what happens with friends sometimes.  It doesn’t mean you run off into the night without saying goodbye.  You sit down and talk about it.  Understand?”

“Sorry,” Tom mumbled again.  

Seeing his friend’s discomfort, Booker softened his tone.  Placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder, he lifted Tom’s chin with the other.  “Promise me you’ll never run off again.  If you ever want to leave, tell me first okay?”

Tom’s eyes misted with tears and he nodded his head.  He pulled Booker into a tight hug and both boys stood silently embracing for a full minute before Tommy gently disengaged.  “How did you find me?” he asked, as a second knock on the door sounded.

“That would be because of me,” Robbie answered as he opened the door to the pizza deliveryman.  After paying for the pizza, Werner closed the door and walked over to the bed.  Putting down the box, he picked up his coat.  “I’ll let Booker explain,” he continued, as he headed for the door.  “Stay in the room for as long as you like, it’s paid for.  Enjoy the pizza and Tommy… thank you for another pleasurable encounter.  I look forward to next time.”  Bowing slightly, he walked from the room.

Tommy and Booker stared at each other until Tom burst out laughing.  His laughter was infectious and soon Booker was laughing too.  Wiping tears from his eyes, Tommy grabbed a slice of pizza.  “He’s a little weird, don’t you think?” he commented on Werner.

Booker smiled, “Yeah, but he treats us street kids okay, all things considered.”

Tom nodded as he gobbled down his second piece of pie.  “So, tell me how you found me.”

Booker laid down his slice of pizza, his face becoming serious.  “I was frantic; I had no idea where you’d gone.  When I was walking down the street, Werner pulled over and asked me if I was _available_.  I told him I was looking for you and he said he would keep a look out and if he found you, he’d take you to a hotel and get someone there to phone The Exeter.  It just worked out that Morty took the call when I was standing right outside.  He told me where you were and I came over.”  Booker lowered his eyes and his voice went quiet.  “I didn’t know that Robbie meant to… you know, otherwise I would have asked him not to.”

Tom shrugged as he continued to eat his food.  “It doesn’t matter, I made a hundred bucks and…” he ducked his head shyly, “I kind of _enjoyed_ it.”

“Kind of?” Booker teased as he saw Tom’s face reddening with embarrassment.  “I’ve _been_ with Reliable Robbie, I know how good it feels. “

A third knock at the door had the hotel clerk delivering Tom’s clothing.  With the pizza now finished, Tom stood up and dressed.  He felt Booker’s gaze upon him but he did not mind.  His thoughts about sex were changing.  It was not all about violence and rape.  He was starting to see that there was a lot to take pleasure in, if you found the right person.  

Watching Booker as he picked up the discarded lamp and placed it on the nightstand, Tom realized that Dennis might just be that person.  



	14. Into the Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Thanks to everyone who is reading, it means a lot that you take the time to give me KUDOS :)  Feel free to review too, all feedback is welcome.**
> 
> _Previously: A third knock at the door had the hotel clerk delivering Tom’s clothing.  With the pizza now finished, Tom stood up and dressed.  He felt Booker’s gaze upon him but he did not mind.  His thoughts about sex were changing.  It was not all about violence and rape.  He was starting to see that there was a lot to take pleasure in, if you found the right person._
> 
> _Watching Booker as he picked up the discarded lamp and placed it on the nightstand, Tom realized that Dennis might just be that person.  
> _

[**Into the Light**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=14) 

Arriving back at The Exeter, both boys were soaked through from the storm that raged through the city.   Taking off his jacket, Booker shivered as he threw it over the back of a chair to dry.  Pulling off his t-shirt, he tossed it onto the floor.  As he turned around, he caught Tommy eyeing him up and down.  A pink flush of embarrassment crept up his face as he rummaged through his clothing, trying to find something to put on.

“What?” Tom asked, as his eyes danced mischievously even though his body trembled with cold.   “Are you the only one who gets to perv?”

Booker’s blush turned bright red as he stuttered his denial, “I’ve n-never looked Tommy, honest.  I n-nev—”

“Yeah you have,” Tom replied softly, “I don’t mind Booker, honest… and not because I feel I owe you anything, I… I think I _like_ you looking at me like that.”

Dennis stared at Tom open mouthed.  In a clumsy, fifteen-year-old way, Tom was flirting with him.  He swallowed nervously as he raked his fingers through his damp hair.  This was exactly what he had yearned for but now that it had happened, he was too afraid to let Tommy see exactly how he felt.  The last thing he wanted was to scare Tom away by coming on too strong.  He knew that Tom’s emotional state was fragile and that he could easily change his mind in a blink of an eye.  Realizing that he would have to let Tom set the pace, Dennis sighed with disappointment.  For a fraction of a second, he had thought that he would finally get to show Tom the love he deserved.  Now he knew he needed to wait patiently for Tom to act upon any feelings that were slowly starting to develop.  Inwardly composing himself, he gave Tom a smile.  “So we agree?  Looking is okay?” he asked cheekily.

It was Tom’s turn to blush.  Casting his eyes downwards, he smiled shyly as his body continued to quiver.  “Yeah, looking is okay.”

Giving Tom a smile, Booker walked into the bathroom and closed the door, his heart hammering in his chest.  As he kicked off his boots, he heard a light rap at the bathroom door.  He opened it to see Tom shivering in front of him.  “Um, could I have a towel so I can dry off,” Tom asked as his teeth began to chatter uncontrollably.

Laughing, Booker pulled his friend into the bathroom.  “You shower first, I can wait,” he replied.  Tom smiled his appreciation as he quickly began to undress.  Booker leaned against the door as he watched Tom unashamedly.  When his friend entered the shower cubicle, he did not close the curtain and Dennis took it as another hint that Tom _wanted_ him to watch.  His eyes traveled down Tommy’s wet, naked body and he felt his cock starting to twitch.  As Tom soaped up his skin, Booker’s cock swelled and he shoved his hand deep into his pocket so he could secretly stroke his growing erection.  His gaze remained transfixed on Tom’s slender, naked form and he let out a barely audible moan as his cock strained against the confines of his jeans.  He jumped slightly at the sound of the faucets turning off and shaking his head slightly, he quickly pulled out his hand.  As Tom stepped out onto the tiled floor, Booker hurriedly crossed both hands across his groin, in a vain attempt to conceal his arousal.  

Standing in front of him, Tom pushed his dripping hair back from eyes as he smiled entrancingly.  “Your turn,” he invited softly before taking a towel from the rail and beginning to dry off.  Booker felt his face once again burn scarlet.  He could feel his throbbing cock aching for release.  He was well aware if he stripped off, Tom would see his arousal and know it was from watching him in the shower.  Even knowing that Tom had given him permission to watch did not make it any easier.  He felt like a voyeur who had been caught masturbating whilst peeping through a window.  Humiliation washed over him and he quickly turned away, tears of shame glistening in his eyes.  As he searched blindly for the door handle, Tom laid a gentle hand on his naked shoulder.  “It’s okay Dennis,” Tom whispered and at the unfamiliar sound of his given name, Booker turned around in surprise.  Staring into Tom’s deep brown eyes, he saw only understanding.  

Booker smiled back apologetically.  “I’m so sorry Tommy,” he muttered, “It’s just… you’re so damn beautiful and—”

“You’re a sixteen-year-old boy and most stimulation is gonna bring on a reaction, ‘cause it’s all about hormones and stuff,” Tom quoted back Booker's words with a smile of amusement.  Sensing that Booker was still overwrought, he stopped teasing and put an arm around his friend’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.  “I _get_ it and I don’t care, honest.  I knew you were watching me and it felt… it felt _exciting_.”

“Really?” Booker asked in amazement.  “It doesn’t bother you that I get—”

“Nope,” Tom answered quickly, not sure that he really wanted to hear Booker say the words aloud.  The sexual feelings that were developing for Booker were a new experience.  At home, he always tried to remain unnoticed so his father would leave him alone.  Now he was openly flaunting his body in front of another male, all the while knowing that it turned Booker on but not feeling emotionally equipped to take it to the next level.  Slowly, it dawned on him that he was what his father called a _prick tease_.  It was his turn to feel mortified.  “ _Jesus_ ,” he muttered as he stared into Dennis’ face with eyes full of shame, “Booker I’m _so_ sorry, I shouldn’t have strutted around naked in front of you when I can’t give you what you want.”  Tears brimmed over as his eyes pleaded with Booker for forgiveness.  

It was Dennis’ turn to offer comfort.  He pulled Tom into a loving embrace.  “Don’t cry Tommy,” he whispered, “I know you aren’t ready to have a relationship with me but there’s no harm in taking pleasure from looking is there?  Not if we both enjoy it.  I would never push you into doing anything you didn’t want to.  So I’m leaving it up to you, whenever you’re ready, whatever you want to do, I’m here, okay?”

Tom lifted his head and stared deep into Booker’s dark eyes.  He wanted desperately for Booker to kiss him but he did not know how to give the signal and he was too unsure to initiate the kiss himself.  Instead, he smiled and nodded as he pulled away from Booker’s arms.

“Are we good?” Dennis asked quietly, searching Tom’s face for any signs of remorse.

“We’re good,” Tom replied in a barely audible voice.  They stood in an uncomfortable silence for several minutes before Tom spoke, “Um, you’d better have a shower before you freeze to death.”

Dennis nodded and hanging onto the sink for support, he peeled off his wet jeans.  He paused for a moment before pulling off his boxers and throwing them on the floor.  He felt the warmth of Tom’s gaze upon him and his semi erect penis began to twitch back to life.  Stepping into the shower, he turned on the faucets but left the curtains open.  He could hear Tom’s heavy breathing behind him and his cock began to swell.  Now, more than ever, he wanted to take his throbbing member in his hand and bring himself to orgasm.  He dared to let his fingers lightly brush over his engorged head as he bit down heavily on his lip to prevent himself from crying out.  A soft moaning sounded in his ears, and for a moment, he thought he had voiced his own pleasure.  But as the moaning continued, he realized it was Tom.  Turning his head, he saw Tom leaning against the door, his hand inside the opening of the towel wrapped around his waist, gently tugging at his own growing erection.  At the erotic sight, Booker could no longer contain himself.  “ _Tommy_ ,” he moaned, as his own hand started working back and forth over his own cock.

Their eyes met; both boys’ pupils now fully dilated as they jerked off in rhythm, each moaning their pleasure at the sight of the other masturbating.  Booker felt his orgasm rising and his pace quickened.  As his climax hit, his eyes widened and he cried out Tom’s name as warm semen covered his hand and mixed with the warm water, before flowing down the drain. 

Hearing Dennis’ vocal release, it only took Tom another few seconds before his own orgasm hit hard.  “ _Fuuuck!”_ he screamed, as he ejaculated over his fingers.  His body shuddered at the thrill of his stimulation and a pleasant warmth washed over his body.  Panting heavily, he wiped his hand on his towel as he watched Dennis bask in his own post orgasmic bliss.  

Catching Booker’s eye, Tom gave a shy grin.  Booker smiled back and turning off the shower, he stepped out into the bathroom.  Still dripping wet, he pulled Tom into his arms and held him close.  Tom laid his head on Dennis’ shoulder, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist.  The two boys remained motionless for several minutes before silently pulling apart.  

Booker quickly dried off before taking Tom’s hand and leading him into the bedroom.  Throwing off his towel, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.  Tom paused for a moment before dropping his own towel and getting in under the covers.  Laying his head on Booker’s smooth chest, Tom felt a protective arm wrap around his shoulders and gentle fingers begin to stroke his arm.  Closing his eyes, Tom took comfort in Dennis’ nurturing embrace.  Letting out a contented sigh, his eyelids grew heavy and he slowly drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

 


	15. It Started With a Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Catching Booker’s eye, Tom gave a shy grin.  Booker smiled back and turning off the shower, he stepped out into the bathroom.  Still dripping wet, he pulled Tom into his arms and held him close.  Tom laid his head on Dennis’ shoulder, wrapping his arms around his friend’s waist.  The two boys remained motionless for several minutes before silently pulling apart.   Booker quickly dried off before taking Tom’s hand and leading him into the bedroom.  Throwing off his towel, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed.  Tom paused for a moment before dropping his own towel and getting in under the covers.  Laying his head on Booker’s smooth chest, Tom felt a protective arm wrap around his shoulders and gentle fingers begin to stroke his arm.  Closing his eyes, Tom took comfort in Dennis’ nurturing embrace.  Letting out a contented sigh, his eyelids grew heavy and he slowly drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep._

[**It Started With a Kiss**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=15) 

Autumn gradually turned into winter and soliciting on the streets became an uncomfortable and slightly less profitable profession.  Tom had a standing twice-weekly appointment with Robbie Werner but the remainder of the time the boys spent on the street corners, patiently waiting for a proposition.  Crouching in a freezing alleyway giving a client a blowjob whilst the wind howled around him and the cold rain soaked through his clothing, made Tom even more miserable than he usually felt after being mouth-fucked by a stranger.  He almost preferred going to a hotel so a john could fuck his body until it hurt; at least it was warm and he could usually shower afterwards.  

Booker coped better mentally than Tom, but he too hated the severity of the wintry weather.   He had several _regulars_ that were not too demanding but to make ends meet he also had to service several men who liked to use their fists as well as their dicks.  During the warmer months, he could afford to be choosy but once the weather turned, it became harder to find customers, as most men did not casually wander the streets looking for vulnerable runaways to prey upon.  The bruising on Booker’s face became an almost permanent tattoo of the abuse he endured just so he and Tommy could keep a roof over their heads and food in their stomachs.   Booker was pleased that Tommy had a regular in Reliable Robbie.  It helped to spare the teenager from the violence of the streets.  But there were no guarantees on the harsh city streets and Tom often came home sporting a black eye or a bloody nose from an overzealous john who thought it fun to beat up a fifteen-year-old.

Once safely locked in their room at The Exeter, both boys found gratification in watching each other shower.  It had become an almost daily ritual, a way to release their private, sexual desires.  Afterwards, they climbed naked into bed and held each other close until they fell asleep.  Neither boy attempted to take the relationship to the next level, although Booker had to use all the willpower he possessed not to throw Tommy onto the bed and fuck him long and hard.  He had promised he would let Tom take control of their relationship and he would not go back on his word, no matter how difficult it was.  He took his pleasure in seeing Tom naked.  Both boys made the moment last, masturbating slowly and deliberately, their eyes never leaving each other’s bodies.  Their climaxes were vocal and intense, both usually attaining release within moments of the other, their bodies shuddering violently as they cried out their pleasure in unison.   Neither boy spoke about how it made them feel.  They just accepted that it was something they did, a way to get through the horrors of the day and experience something that made _them_ feel good instead of it always being about pleasuring others.  Neither boy felt guilty about the hedonistic indulgence that gave each of them so much enjoyment.

After an unusually lucrative day on the streets, Booker’s mood was buoyant.  As he entered their hotel room, his emotional high plummeted when he saw Tom sitting on the edge of the bed wiping at his bloodied nose with a wad of toilet paper.  Hurrying over, he squatted down next to his friend and carefully surveyed the damage.  Tom’s eye already showed signs of bruising and Dennis felt his temper rising.  Whilst he accepted his own physical abuse at the hands of some clients as just part of the job, he could never understand why anyone would want to damage Tom’s beautiful face.  Standing up, he walked into the bathroom and pulled off several squares of toilet paper.  Dampening them under the faucet, he returned to his position on the floor.  Tenderly lifting Tom’s head, he gently daubed at the blood trickling from Tom’s nostril.  “Who did this?” he asked angrily, “I’m fucking sick of this bullshit.”

Tom flinched slightly as Booker’s ire caused his ministrations to become heavy handed.  Grabbing the wadded up paper from his friend’s hand, he placed it on the bedside table.  “I dunno, just some guy I gave a blowjob to.  I guess he didn’t like my technique,” Tom joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“It’s not funny Tommy,” Booker snapped, “You need to be more careful.  One day some john’s gonna go too far and you’ll end up—”

“Dead? Tom retorted.  “But it’s okay for you, huh.  Look in the mirror Booker, your face is a mess.”

Dennis knew it was true.  He should not be lecturing Tom on the dangers of the street when he himself took risks regularly just to make extra money.  Sighing wearily, he stood up and picking up the bloodied toilet paper, he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.  

Tom heard the toilet flush, then the sound of the shower.  A feeling of sadness washed over him; Booker had shut him out.  Neither boy showered without the other watching, that had become their ritual since their first encounter several weeks before.  Closing his eyes, he held his aching head in his hands as he fought back tears.  It was not that he wanted to be some john’s punching bag.  The blow had been unexpected, sending him crashing back onto the cold, wet pavement of the narrow alleyway.  He felt foolish for not sensing that he was about to be attacked.  One of the first lessons Booker had taught him was be alert and never let your guard down.  

Hearing the bathroom door open, Tom lifted his head.  His eyes widened when he saw Booker standing naked in the doorway, his hand held out in front of him.  Standing up, Tom moved forward and taking Dennis’ fingers in his own he gave them a squeeze.  Booker pulled him close as he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Can I come in?” Tom murmured, his cock beginning to twitch at the thought of watching Booker shower.  Dennis nodded and pulled Tom into the bathroom.  Before Tom could begin to undress, Booker grabbed the bottom of Tom’s t-shirt and slowly pulled it over his head.  Gazing at Tom’s naked torso, Booker waited whilst Tom kicked off his boots and pulled off his socks.  Tom’s breathing became heavy as Dennis deliberately took his time unbuttoning his jeans before unhurriedly pulling down the zipper.  Letting his denims fall to the floor, Tom stepped free of the fabric, his eyes never leaving Booker’s face.  Dennis smiled mischievously as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of Tom’s boxers and slowly pulled them down so they dropped to the floor.  Leaning forward, he whispered into Tom’s ear, “Shower with me.”

A shiver of anticipation ran through Tom’s body and his pupils dilated as his arousal intensified.  Nodding his assent, he allowed Booker to guide him to the cubicle.  The two boys stood facing each other as Dennis turned on the faucets and the warm water cascaded over their tired bodies.  They stood transfixed, staring deep into each other’s dark eyes.  As his cock began to swell, Tom knew the time had finally come.  He craved more; he needed more.  Sucking in his breath, he placed a hand against Booker’s face.  Leaning forward, he brushed his lips lightly against Dennis’ seductive pout.  His stomach flip-flopped at the sensation that ran through his body from his first ever kiss.  Booker’s eyes widened in surprise and Tom smiled at his reaction.  Their second kiss was gentle, almost chaste as Tom pulled Booker closer.   His lips parted and he allowed Dennis’ tongue to gain access.  Slowly they explored each other’s mouths, their tongues intertwining as their passion grew.  Booker’s hands slid down Tom’s slippery body, stopping to rest on his narrow hips before moving down and cupping his buttocks.  Tom groaned loudly as Booker pulled him close, pressing their bodies together.  Holding Tom against him, Booker slowly moved his body up and down, giving their erections the friction they needed to grow.  Their tongues clashed violently as their desire became stronger.  As his fervor intensified, Booker immediately forgot his promise to Tom.  Moving his hand, he took hold of Tom’s cock and began to pull it with slow, even strokes.  Tom cried out and dropping his head, he bit down onto the delicate flesh between Booker’s neck and shoulder.  A pleasurable pain shot through Booker’s body and he groaned loudly as his cock began to weep heavily.  Reaching down, he found Tom’s hand and guided it to his aching erection.  He felt Tom’s fingers hesitate for a fraction of a second before wrapping around his engorged cock.  As their hands moved in a frantic rhythmic motion, Tom’s lips once again found Booker’s mouth.  They kissed passionately, nipping and sucking at each other’s lips as their heavy panting rent the moist air.  Tom felt his orgasm rising and he started to gasp, “Oh _fuck_ … Oh _Dennis_ … Harder… Harder… _HAAARDERRR!”_   A wave of euphoria flooded through Tom’s body and he trembled violently as he ejaculated over Booker’s fingers.  

Hearing his name cried out in the throes of passion, Dennis’ release hit hard and he spilled his semen over Tom’s hand.  His body shuddered as he pulled Tom close.  “Jesus Tommy…” he whispered against Tom’s ear as he struggled for breath.  “That felt sooo… _fucking_ … good.”

Tom smiled against Booker’s neck as his breathing slowly returned to normal.  Lifting his head, he sucked lovingly on Booker’s lower lip before pulling away and smiling shyly.  Booker returned Tom’s smile before turning off the shower.  Taking Tom’s hand, they stepped out onto the tiled floor of the bathroom.  Unable to contain himself, Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s and he kissed him tenderly.   Feeling goose bumps rising on Tom’s flesh, Dennis pulled away and grabbing a towel, he slowly rubbed Tom’s quivering body before toweling himself dry.  Once again taking Tom by the hand, Booker led him to the bed.  Lying down, they kissed lovingly for several minutes.  Tom’s eyes grew heavy and he dropped his head back onto the pillow as Booker covered his throat in soft, butterfly kisses.  “Are you happy?” Dennis murmured against Tom’s pale skin.

“Fuck yeah,” Tom breathed sleepily, as a small smile played on his lips.  “I guess this means I now have a boyfriend.”

A soft tingling sensation flowed through Booker’s body.  “I guess it does,” he replied affectionately, as he smiled down at his lover.  

Closing his eyes, Tom felt an inner peace envelop him.  It had been a long time since he had known love.  Feeling Dennis’ lips softly fluttering over his throat, he once again believed that he was worthy of the emotion.  He deserved to feel loved and now that he had Booker, he knew he would never feel alone again.

 


	16. Love Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom smiled against Booker’s neck as his breathing slowly returned to normal.  Lifting his head, he sucked lovingly on Booker’s lower lip before pulling away and smiling shyly.  Booker returned Tom’s smile before turning off the shower.  Taking Tom’s hand, they stepped out onto the tiled floor of the bathroom.  Unable to contain himself, Booker pressed his lips against Tom’s and he kissed him tenderly.   Feeling goose bumps rising on Tom’s flesh, Dennis pulled away and grabbing a towel, he slowly rubbed Tom’s quivering body before toweling himself dry.  One again taking Tom by the hand, Booker led him to the bed.  Lying down, they kissed lovingly for several minutes.  Tom’s eyes grew heavy and he dropped his head back onto the pillow as Booker covered his throat in soft, butterfly kisses.  “Are you happy?” Dennis murmured against Tom’s pale skin.  “Fuck yeah,” Tom breathed sleepily, as a small smile played on his lips.  “I guess this means I now have a boyfriend.” A soft tingling sensation flowed through Booker’s body.  “I guess it does,” he replied affectionately, as he smiled down at his lover.   Closing his eyes, Tom felt an inner peace envelop him.  It had been a long time since he had known love.  Feeling Dennis’ lips softly fluttering over his throat, he once again believed that he was worthy of the emotion.  He deserved to feel loved and now that he had Booker, he knew he would never feel alone again._

[**Love Hurts**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=16) 

Dennis and Tom spent the next month battling the elements in a desperate attempt to make enough money to keep them off the freezing streets.  As the temperatures plummeted, a heavy, persistent snow fell from the leaden sky.  Finding work became increasingly difficult and the two runaways often went to bed with their empty stomachs growling in protest.  Their only pleasure came from each other’s bodies.  They stroked and fondled each other until they found their release and during that time, their pain remained briefly forgotten.  Booker hoped their relationship would become more physical but Tom seemed happy with the way things were, so he did not push.  It was difficult at times, to keep control of his desires.  He desperately wanted to make love to Tom, to show him how different fucking felt when it was between two people who loved each other.  He knew Tommy had learnt to enjoy sex with Robbie Werner but it was not the same.  Reliable Robbie did not _love_ Tom, he _desired_ Tom.  Booker’s feelings for Tom were all consuming; he had never felt such strong emotions for another human being before.   His heart skipped a beat every time he looked into Tom’s big, brown eyes and he knew that he would lay down his life for his lover.  Sometimes he chuckled to himself at how soppy and emotional he had become since meeting Tommy McQuaid.  His only explanation for it was that love was indeed, a very funny thing.

Arriving back at the hotel one afternoon after an _appointment_ with Robbie Werner, Tom found Booker hunched over the bathroom sink trying to stem the flow of blood that poured from his broken nose.  Alarmed at the amount of blood, Tom raced downstairs and begged Morty to help his friend.  Grabbing an ice pack from the kitchen freezer, Morty followed the distressed teen up the creaking staircase.  Helping Booker to sit down on the cold, tiled floor, Morty instructed him to lean forward and pinch his nostrils closed.  Placing the cold pack on the back of Dennis’ neck, he waited patiently for the flow of blood to diminish.  Twenty minutes later and Booker felt well enough to stand up.  Checking his reflection in the mirror, Dennis sighed in relief to see that although he had swelling and his eyes were black, his nose remained straight.  Behind him, Tom’s pale, worried face stared back at him.  Turning, he attempted a reassuring smile but Tom looked away as his lower lip began to quiver.  Assured that Booker was in no immediate danger, Morty left the two boys alone.  

When Dennis attempted to speak, Tom ignored him and walked away.  Letting out a deep sigh, Booker washed the blood from his face and hands before following Tom into the bedroom.  He found his friend standing at the window, watching as crisp, white snow blanketed the ground.  Standing behind him, Booker placed his arms around Tom’s waist and laid his chin on his shoulder.  He felt Tom’s body stiffen under his touch before he pulled away and walked over to the bed.  Turning around, Dennis watched as Tom took off his boots before lying on the bed and closing his eyes.  Not really in the mood for an argument but feeling the need to ease the tension in the room, Booker sat down on the edge of the bed and placed his hand on Tom’s thigh.  “I’m okay Tommy, it looks worse than it is,” he reassured.

Opening his eyes, Tom stared back angrily.  “Why do you keep going with those men when you know they’re gonna hurt you?” he demanded.   “Is it ‘cause you _like_ being hit?”

“ _Like it?”_ Booker snapped back as his rage slowly escalated.  “Do you really think I get pleasure from getting my face smashed in?  Why the _fuck_ do you think I keep doing this, huh?  I do it for us you ungrateful little shit.  We don’t all have a Robbie Werner taking care of us.”

“Is that my fault?” Tom yelled back.  “You’re the one who wanted me to go with him.  What’s your fucking problem, are you jealous ‘cause you know he makes me come?”

Dennis slapped Tom hard across the face.  Seeing Tom’s expression of horror, he immediately felt remorse.  “Oh God Tommy I’m sorry!” he cried as he attempted to pull his lover into his arm.  

Tom jerked angrily away and as he climbed from the bed, he threw Dennis a look of disgust.  “If you ever lay a hand on me again you’ll fucking regret it,” he whispered menacingly.  Pulling on his boots, he grabbed his coat and stormed out of the room, slamming the door in his wake.

Covering his face in his hands, Dennis started to sob uncontrollably.  He had thought that when he met Tommy his life would become less painful but in truth, it had become more so.  Caring so deeply for another human being hurt in ways that Booker could never have imagined.  The ache in his heart was unbearable; he hated himself for causing Tom so much unnecessary pain.  Curling up on the bed, he continued to weep until he fell into an exhausted sleep.

**

Tom arrived home several hours later to find Booker lying motionless on the bed, staring at the window.  Setting a half-eaten pizza in its box onto the bedside table, he sat on the bed and pulled off his snow stained boots.  Lying down, he placed a cold hand on Booker’s arm.  “Hey,” he murmured as his fingers lightly stroked Dennis’ skin, “I bought pizza if you want some.”

“I’m not hungry,” Booker’s muffled voice replied.

“Yeah you are, you’re always hungry,” Tom quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood.  When Booker did not reply, Tom snuggled in close to Dennis as his hands began to move up and down Booker’s body.  “If you don’t wanna eat, we can fool around,” he whispered seductively.

Booker’s skin prickled as Tom’s fingers moved lightly over his body.  Rolling over, he gazed into Tom’s wide eyes.  “I’m sorry I hit you,” he muttered miserably, “That was a shitty thing to do.”

“Yeah it was,” Tom answered honestly.  “But I kinda deserved it.  I shouldn’t have said that about Robbie Werner.”

A tortured expression passed over Booker’s face.   “It’s true though, you like having sex with him.”  When Tom did not answer, he whispered, “Why won’t you have sex with _me?”_

Tom’s hand stopped moving and he sat up.  Staring down at Booker’s battered face, Tom fought to keep his voice under control, “Is that what this is about?  You’re pissed at me because I won’t let you fuck me?”

Booker struggled to sit up, his eyes once again flashing with anger.  “Maybe I am.  I don’t understand it, why won’t you let me when you have no problem letting Robbie Werner or any other john who hands you a few dollars.  Is _that_ what I’m doing wrong?  Do you want me to pay you?”

Tears welled in Tom’s eyes.  “If you’re trying to hurt me you succeeded you asshole,” he murmured, his face a picture of misery.  Standing up, he slowly crossed the room and curled up despondently onto the chair.  “If you want someone to fuck, go fuck yourself.”

Booker knew he had gone too far.  He wished he could take back the spiteful words that had upset Tom but he could not.  Once spoken, the hurt could not be undone.  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and approached the chair.  Receiving no acknowledgement from Tom, he squatted down on the floor and laid his hand on Tom’s knee.  “I don’t know why I said that,” he whispered, as his eyes pleaded with Tom to forgive him.  “I’m sooo sorry Tommy, I never meant to hurt you, I just…” he paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.  “I just care for you so much and you’re right, I _do_ get jealous when I know you’ve been with Werner because I hate it that he gets to have you so completely.”  When Tom finally met his gaze, Dennis hurriedly continued, “But I’m okay with what we have, honest.  I’m just sick and tired of our whole fucking existence.  I _hate_ the way we live and I _hate_ the men that take advantage of us.”  Sensing that he was finally getting through, he picked up his lover’s hand and gently squeezed the slender fingers.  “Don’t you get it?  I want more for us.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Tom finally broke the deafening silence.  Lightly stroking Dennis’ bruised and swollen face he whispered, “I don’t want to do it anymore either but we have no choice Booker, what else are we gonna do?”

Leaning forward, Booker pulled Tom into his arms.  “I don’t know Tommy,” he whispered, “But I’ll think of something.”  



	17. A Way Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Booker knew he had gone too far.  He wished he could take back the spiteful words that had upset Tom but he could not.  Once spoken, the hurt could not be undone.  Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up and approached the chair.  Receiving no acknowledgement from Tom, he squatted down on the floor and laid his hand on Tom’s knee.  “I don’t know why I said that,” he whispered, as his eyes pleaded with Tom to forgive him.  “I’m sooo sorry Tommy, I never meant to hurt you, I just…” he paused for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.  “I just care for you so much and you’re right, I do get jealous when I know you’ve been with Werner because I hate it that he gets to have you so completely.”  When Tom finally met his gaze, Dennis hurriedly continued, “But I’m okay with what we have, honest.  I’m just sick and tired of our whole fucking existence.  I hate the way we live and I hate the men that take advantage of us.”  Sensing that he was finally getting through, he picked up his lover’s hand and gently squeezed the slender fingers.  “Don’t you get it?  I want more for us.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”_
> 
> _Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Tom finally broke the deafening silence.  Lightly stroking Dennis’ bruised and swollen face he whispered, “I don’t want to do it anymore either but we have no choice Booker, what else are we gonna do?”_
> 
> _Leaning forward, Booker pulled Tom into his arms.  “I don’t know Tommy,” he whispered, “But I’ll think of something.”_

[**A Way Out**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=17) 

In the early hours of the following morning, Tom sat cross-legged on a chair in their dimly lit hotel room.  It had been a rough night and he was pleased that Dennis now appeared to be resting peacefully.  He had eventually persuaded his lover to take pain medication to help him sleep.  Surprisingly, Booker had agreed.  As Dennis lay snoring softly through his swollen nose, Tom had found sleep elusive.  He had tossed and turned for several hours before climbing out of bed and pulling on his clothes.  Sneaking softly downstairs, he had found Morty sitting behind his desk watching an old black and white movie.  A small plastic tree, covered in tatty tinsel and gaudy colored baubles sat in the corner, reminding Tom that the next day was Christmas Day.  A thought then popped into Tom’s mind.  He had come downstairs to see if Morty was in the mood for a chat but now he had another plan.  Smiling his attractive smile, he had asked the hotel clerk for some paper and a pencil.  Engrossed in his movie, Morty had grunted and pointed at his desk drawer.  Tom quickly grabbed several sheets and a couple of pencils and thanking the man, he had returned upstairs.

Now he sat silently sketching Booker as he slept.  It had been a long time since he had taken pencil to paper and for the first time in months, he felt calm and in control.  His pencil lightly shaded over the paper, bringing definition to the image of Booker’s sleeping face.  Tom purposely omitted the discoloration under Dennis’ eyes and the slight swelling of the nose.  He wanted his picture to be one of peace not violence as this was to be his Christmas present to Booker.

Hearing a soft groan, he put down his drawing and extricating his cramped legs from their cross-legged position, he hobbled over to the bed to check on his friend.  Feeling the mattress depress, Booker opened his bruised eyes and smiled sleepily at Tom.  “Hey,” Dennis muttered, “What are you doing out of bed?”

“Nothing,” Tom lied.  “Go back to sleep, it’s still early.”

Booker’s lower lip protruded into a soft pout.  “Don’t wanna sleep,” he murmured drowsily.  “I wanna play with you.”

“Is that right?” Tom laughed quietly as his eyes twinkled mischievously.  Standing up, he quickly undressed before pulling back the covers and crawling in next to Dennis.  Reaching out, he slowly ran his fingers down Booker’s smooth chest but his friend quickly pushed his hand away.

“Nuh uh,” Booker whispered, his voice heavy with arousal.  “No touching.  I just wanna touch you.”

It was Tom’s turn to pout but his sulky expression did not last long when Booker’s fingers began to move slowly down his body.  Tom’s heart rate quickened as Dennis’ fingers ran intimately over the skin of his taut belly before slowly traversing back up his body and stopping at his chest.  Booker lazily played with Tom’s nipple, rubbing his thumb over the hard nub as Tom’s breathing intensified.  Smiling to himself, Dennis once again let his fingers travel lightly down Tom’s body until they rested just above Tom’s pubic hair.  He could sense Tom’s anticipation as he gazed lovingly into Tom’s eyes.  Slowly moving his fingers downwards, he delicately ran his fingertips over Tom’s growing cock.  Tom let out a soft moan and Booker smiled.  He wanted to tease Tom, have him begging for more.  As he began to move his fingers back up Tom’s quivering body his hand was suddenly grabbed and pushed back down.  Pulling away, Booker laughed wickedly, “Do that again and you won’t get your surprise,” he murmured.

Tom’s eyes gazed back dreamily.  “What surprise?” he panted, as Booker’s fingers once again stroked up and down the length of his shaft.

“You’ll see,” Booker replied, a smile playing on his lips.

Tom closed his eyes and took pleasure in the sensation of Booker’s fingers touching his cock.  He gasped as Dennis lightly tugged at his growing erection before once again fondling and rubbing his cockhead.  He became aware that Booker was shifting position and when he opened his eyes, he saw Dennis kneeling in between his legs.  His eyes widened in shock and he struggled to sit up but Booker gently pushed him back down onto the mattress, a look of sadness flashing across his dark eyes.  “Shh, Tommy, it’s okay, I’m not gonna do _that_.”  

Tom felt stupid for not trusting Booker.  He bit down on his lip self-consciously and attempted to give Dennis a smile.  “Sorry, I thought you-–“

“No talking,” Booker murmured as he cupped Tom’s testicles in his hand and began to caress them with his thumb before moving back to Tom’s erection.  He smiled with satisfaction as Tom’s hips lifted off the bed as he gently tugged and stroked.  “Do you like that baby?” Dennis whispered as he increased his pace.  “Do you wanna come?”

“Yesss,” Tom breathed, “I wanna… come.”

“Do you want your surprise?” Booker teased as he continued to tug gently at Tom’s cock.

Panting heavily, Tom only managed to nod.  Grinning, Booker lowered his head and darting out his tongue, he licked at the pre-cum weeping heavily from Tom’s engorged cockhead.

Crying out with pleasure, Tom bucked his hips upwards.  Booker wrapped his fingers around the base of Tom’s erection and ducking his head, he took Tom into his mouth.  “ _Fuck!”_ Tom yelled, as his finger’s tangled in Dennis’ hair.  Booker expertly used his tongue and lips as he sucked and licked at Tom’s hard cock.  “Feels… so… good,” Tom panted, as his hips pumped up and down.  “Suck me… Oh Dennis… suck me… oh _fuck_ …   _Dennis!..._ I’m gonna… I’m gonna…  _FUUCK!”_

Dennis swallowed deeply as Tom’s warm semen hit the back of his throat.  He continued to suck until Tom’s body stopped quivering.  As he lapped at Tom’s softening cock, he felt his lover’s fingers gently stroking his hair.  Smiling, he lifted his head and gazed into Tom’s heavily lidded eyes.  Inching forward, he lay on top of Tom’s prone body, his semi erect penis pressing against Tom’s stomach.  Pushing back Tom’s sweaty hair, Booker kissed him slowly and lovingly.  

When they eventually pulled apart, Tom stared deep into Booker’s eyes as his fingers lightly danced over his buttocks.  “Roll over,” he whispered, “Let me return the favor.”

Grinning happily, Booker maneuvered his body to the other side of the bed and lying on his back he sighed contentedly as Tom’s fingers worked their magic.  It did not take long for him to spill his seed as he cried out Tom’s name.  Snuggling close, the two boys continued to caress and stroke each other’s bodies until they both drifted into a light sleep. 

**

Booker rose first and padding to the toilet, he relieved his full bladder.  Yawning as he walked back into the bedroom, he decided that he could use another hour’s sleep.  Just as he was about to climb back into bed, he spotted a piece of paper lying under the chair.  Walking over, he bent down and picked it up.  He stared transfixed at the portrait of his own sleeping face.  The likeness was so extraordinary, he felt as though he was looking at a photo.  

He turned around as Tom’s voice sounded from behind, “I forgot about that.  It was gonna to be your Christmas present; I guess the surprise is ruined now.”

Carrying the sketch over to the bed, Dennis sat down next to Tom.  “It’s incredible Tommy, I love it.  Where did you learn to do this?”

Tom shrugged.  “I dunno, I’ve always liked to draw.”

Climbing back under the covers, Booker sat staring at the portrait.  Tom initially appeared unfazed by Dennis' appreciation of his artistic talent.  He had never sketched to gain praise; he had only ever done it because it was something he enjoyed.  He had spent many hours at school sketching rather than learning.  Most of his teachers paid no attention to what he did in class, they were just grateful that he was not causing a disruption.  Even Doug did not fully comprehend how gifted his brother was as Tom rarely let anyone see his drawings.  

Beginning to feel embarrassed at Booker’s scrutiny of his artwork, Tom snatched it from his hand and threw it on the floor.  “Hey!” Booker yelled, “Don’t ruin it!”

Sighing heavily, Tom reached down and picked up his picture.  Handing it back to Booker he mumbled, “It’s no big deal, it’s just a drawing. “

A huge smile spread across Dennis’ bruised face as he waved the piece of paper at Tom.  “No big deal?  Don’t you see Tommy, this is your ticket out!”

Tom stared back uncomprehendingly.  “What do you mean?” he asked, “My ticket out of what.”

Booker rolled his eyes in frustration.  “Prostitution you idiot!  This is how you can make money; you can draw portraits of people.”

“Um, Booker, I don’t think anyone’s gonna want to buy something I’ve drawn,” Tom replied self-consciously.

Dennis jumped out of bed and began to furiously pace up and down the room.  “Are you kidding?  Tommy, you’re a fucking artistic genius, people are gonna be lining up!”

Tom rubbed at the back of his neck as a shy smile twitched his lips.  “Do you really think so?” he asked quietly.

“Fuck yeah!” Dennis yelled.  Sitting back down on the bed, he grabbed hold of Tom’s hand as his eyes danced with excitement.  “I’ve got a plan and if it works out, this is gonna be the beginning of the rest of our lives.”  



	18. Expectations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sighing heavily, Tom reached down and picked up his picture.  Handing it back to Booker he mumbled, “It’s no big deal, it’s just a drawing. “_
> 
> _A huge smile spread across Dennis’ bruised face as he waved the piece of paper at Tom.  “No big deal?  Don’t you see Tommy, this is your ticket out!”_
> 
> _Tom stared back uncomprehendingly.  “What do you mean?” he asked, “My ticket out of what.”_
> 
> _Booker rolled his eyes in frustration.  “Prostitution you idiot!  This is how you can make money; you can draw portraits of people.”_
> 
> _“Um, Booker, I don’t think anyone’s gonna want to buy something I’ve drawn,” Tom replied self-consciously._
> 
> _Dennis jumped out of bed and began to furiously pace up and down the room.  “Are you kidding?  Tommy, you’re a fucking artistic genius, people are gonna be lining up!”_
> 
> _Tom rubbed at the back of his neck as a shy smile twitched his lips.  “Do you really think so?” he asked quietly._
> 
> _“Fuck yeah!” Dennis yelled.  Sitting back down on the bed, he grabbed hold of Tom’s hand as his eyes danced with excitement.  “I’ve got a plan and if it works out, this is gonna be the beginning of the rest of our lives.”_

[**Expectations**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=18) 

Lying motionless on the hotel bed, Tom attempted to shut off his mind as Robbie Werner thrust deep into his body.  It was Christmas Eve and he wanted nothing more than to be home with Booker.  But Robbie’s offer to pay double if he could have Tom for the whole evening had been too good to pass up.  They needed the money and the sooner they acquired it, the sooner they could put their plan into action.  The two boys had talked for hours about Booker’s big idea and they finally concluded that if they spent the next few weeks _working_ around the clock, they would have enough money for a fresh start.  They would leave the city and head east, find a small town and settle down.  Booker would find an honest paying job and Tom would sell his sketches.  

Sensing Tom’s lack of enthusiasm, Robbie slowed his pace before completely withdrawing from Tom’s body.  Rolling onto his back, he breathed heavily as he turned his face towards Tom.  “Get on top,” he instructed.

Pulled back from his contemplations, Tom gave Robbie a dazed look.  “ _What?”_

“I want you on top,” Werner panted.  “And hurry up, there’s a good boy.”

Tom’s eyes flashed with anger.  “No fucking way!  I’m not a girl, stop treating me like your fucking bitch!”

Unaccustomed to Tom’s insolence and taken aback at the ferocity of his refusal, Werner lay wondering what to do.  But as his cock throbbed painfully, his demeanor began to change and narrowing his eyes he spoke in a stern voice.  “I’m paying you good money Tommy, you need to show me a little respect.”

“This is bullshit,” Tom muttered as he tried to scramble from the bed.  Strong hands pulled him back and he struggled violently to get free.  A hard slap to the face stopped him and he stared back at Robbie in stunned silence.

“Now,” Robbie said calmly, as he pulled Tom’s unresisting body towards him.  “Be a good boy and get on top.”

Fearing a reprisal, Tom knelt over the man’s trembling body.  Werner placed his hands on Tom’s hips and carefully guided him down onto his erection.  As Werner slowly lifted him up and down, Tom screwed his eyes shut.  He did not want to have sex in this way.  He felt completely emasculated as Robbie slammed his young body onto his cock.  He could feel Werner’s nails biting into the tender flesh of his groin.  Covering his face in his hands, Tom bowed his head to hide his humiliation.  He felt shame as his own arousal intensified and he willed his body not to respond.  More than anything, he did not want to climax whilst being fucked like a girl.  

Oblivious of Tom’s distress, Werner quickened his pace as his breath heaved in his chest.  Finding Tommy had been the best thing that had happened to him.  In the ten plus years that he had paid for sex with boys, he had never found anyone who was so pretty and petite.  Booker had been fun but Tommy was in a league of his own.  Werner took pleasure in every moment he spent with the boy.  Just thinking about him caused his cock to twitch.  Never in his wildest dreams could he have hoped for such a find. 

Feeling Robbie slam against his prostate, Tom knew that his own body would eventually betray him.  Grabbing hold of his cock, he pumped it furiously, desperate for the degradation to end.  “Good boy Tommy, good boy,” Werner panted as he watched the teenager masturbate.  When Tom eventually cried out his release, Werner thrust his cock deep into Tom’s body as his hands pulled Tom’s hips downwards.  Closing his eyes, Robbie’s orgasm hit hard as his hands held Tom firmly on top of him.  When his body finally stopped shuddering, he opened his eyes to see Tom’s face glaring down at him.  Releasing his hold, he allowed Tom to disengage.  He watched silently as the teenager climbed from the bed and began to dress.  “I paid you to stay all night,” he protested with a pout.

Pulling two fifty dollar bills out of his jean’s pocket, Tom threw them furiously on to the bed.  “Keep your stinkin’ money,” he snapped, “I’m done being your whore.”  Tying his worn bandanna around his head, Tom walked from the room and slammed the door.

**

Arriving back at The Exeter, Tom found Booker lying on the bed watching television.  He had managed to persuade his lover to stay inside and recoup, at least until after Christmas.  Now that he had given back half of what Robbie Werner had initially paid him, Tommy knew he would have to stay out on the streets longer to make up the difference.  They had enough money to see them through Christmas but if they wanted to leave the city in the New Year, they would both have to pound the pavements day and night.  Tom had been counting on Robbie’s bi-weekly _appointments_ as a way of making an easy two hundred dollars a week but his outburst tonight had ruined that.  Annoyed at himself for blowing the chance to make quick cash, he ignored Booker’s greeting and instead stomped angrily into the bathroom before closing the door with a bang. Kicking off his boots, he started to undress when the door opened and Dennis’ head peered around the jamb.  “Is it safe to come in?” Booker joked lightly.

Sighing heavily, Tom nodded.  “Yeah, sorry.  It’s been a shit night.”

Entering the bathroom, Booker hugged Tom close.  “Wanna talk about it?” he asked gently as he brushed Tom’s bangs from his eyes.

“Not really,” Tom muttered as he pushed Dennis away and continued to undress.  “I just want to shower and go to sleep.”

“Okay,” Booker replied as he pulled his t-shirt back over his head and began to unzip his jeans.  “Let’s get naked.”

Tom laid a hand on Dennis’ arm, preventing him from undressing any further.  “I want to shower alone Booker,” he retorted wearily.

Having showered with Tom every day for the last month, Booker knew something was bothering Tom.  “What’s wrong?  Don’t you want to fool around?” he asked quietly as he reached out and stroked at Tom’s bare chest.”

“For fuck’s sake, just leave it Booker!” Tom snapped, as he grasped painfully at Dennis’ wrist and yanked it away. “I just don’t feel like it, all right?”

“Bullshit!” Booker yelled back, hurt at Tom’s rejection.  “It’s because of Robbie Werner isn’t it?  You don’t want me touching you ‘cause you’ve been with him!”

Pushing furiously past Booker, Tom stormed back into the bedroom.  “I fucking _hate_ Robbie Werner!  I wish you’d never introduced me to him!  He treats me more like a fucking whore than anyone!”

Dragging his t-shirt over his head, Booker followed Tom back into the room.  “Don’t lie to me Tom,” he muttered angrily, “He gets you off and you enjoy it.”

“FUCK _YOU!”_ Tom screamed as tears of rage filled his eyes.  “You have _no_ idea how he treated me tonight!”

Jealousy caused irrational thoughts to cloud Booker's mind.  Pulling on his boots and grabbing his jacket off the chair, he opened the door.  “You know what?  I really don’t care anymore, you can have Robbie Werner.  Merry _fucking_ Christmas Tommy,” he spat before walking out and crashing the door closed behind him.

**

Standing at the window, Tom stood shivering as he observed several pedestrians daring enough to brave the cold, scurry back and forth along the pavement.  Only a small number of commuters drove along the normally bustling street.  It was 1am and most people were either asleep or happily ensconced in their warm homes, raising a glass and celebrating the start of the festive season.  From the corner of his eye, Tom saw Booker hurrying down the footpath, his leather jacket zipped tight against the cold.  He watched as Dennis paused for a moment outside of the hotel before walking inside.  Moving away from the window, Tom crawled into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.  Several minutes later, he heard the door open and the sound of Booker undressing.  Feeling the mattress depress he quickly closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.  When cold fingers lightly touched his stomach, Tom flinched involuntarily at the sensation.  “I know you’re not asleep Tommy,” Booker whispered as he moved his fingers over Tom’s skin.  “Talk to me.”

With an annoyed sigh, Tom opened his eyes and shoved Booker’s hand away.  “Can’t you take a hint,” he growled, “I don’t want you touching me.  I’m sick of people touching me.  Just leave me the fuck alone.” 

“Fine,” Booker grunted as he turned angrily onto his side.

Tom immediately felt regret at his words but the whole situation with Robbie Werner had him feeling violated and used.  It was stupid to blame Booker, whose only crime was a fierce jealousy at not being able to _have_ Tom in the way he so desperately desired.  Misery and dejection slowly consumed Tom’s tortured mind.  He did not know how to make it right with Booker, except to give him what he wanted and he knew if he did that before he was ready, he would eventually come to resent his lover for pressuring him into it.

Rolling over, he turned his back to Booker, as silent tears spilled from his eyes.  Little by little, he was losing the only friend he had ever had and he knew that before long, he would once again be alone.

 

 


	19. Good Tidings of Comfort and Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: With an annoyed sigh, Tom opened his eyes and shoved Booker’s hand away.  “Can’t you take a hint,” he growled, “I don’t want you touching me.  I’m sick of people touching me.  Just leave me the fuck alone.”_
> 
> _“Fine,” Booker grunted as he turned angrily onto his side._
> 
> _Tom immediately felt regret at his words but the whole situation with Robbie Werner had him feeling violated and used.  It was stupid to blame Booker, whose only crime was a fierce jealousy at not being able to have Tom in the way he so desperately desired.  Misery and dejection slowly consumed Tom’s tortured mind.  He did not know how to make it right with Booker, except to give him what he wanted and he knew if he did that before he was ready, he would eventually come to resent his lover for pressuring him into it._
> 
> _Rolling over, he turned his back to Booker, as silent tears spilled from his eyes.  Little by little, he was losing the only friend he had ever had and he knew that before long, he would once again be alone._

[**Good Tidings of Comfort and Joy**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=19) 

The clanging of church bells woke Tom from a troubled sleep.  His stomach growled, reminding him he had not eaten in over twenty-four hours.  Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes as a soft voice spoke from the opposite side of the room, “Merry Christmas Tommy.”

Turning his head, Tom saw Booker sitting in the chair, covered by a blanket.  Ashamed of his behavior the night before, Tom ducked his head and mumbled, “Merry Christmas.”  

Booker stood up and dropping the blanket, he walked over to the bed and sat down.  Taking Tom’s hand, he tried to get his lover to meet his gaze, but Tom’s head remained bowed.  Reaching out, Booker took hold of Tom’s chin and gently tilted his head.  “Can you forgive me?” he whispered beseechingly.

Biting down on his lower lip to prevent himself from crying, Tom nodded before allowing Booker to hug him.  Dennis’ lips found his and they kissed tenderly.  Desperate to feel loved, Tom thrust his tongue deep into Booker’s mouth as his hand dropped into Dennis’ lap and began massaging Booker’s cock through the thin cotton of his boxers.  With a grunt, Dennis broke the kiss and gently pulled Tom’s hand away.  “Don’t,” he muttered, “You don’t have to do anything—”

“I _want_ to,” Tom breathed, as he trailed his finger down Booker’s naked chest.  “I didn’t mean what I said last night.  I was angry with Werner for treating me like his bitch and I took it out on you.  It was stupid.”

Dennis stilled Tom’s hand.  “Why did he make you feel like a bitch?” he asked softly, _needing_ to know the answer but not certain that he really wanted a blow-by-blow description.

“Forget it,” Tom whispered as he attempted to distract Booker by stroking at his nipple.

Pushing Tom’s hand away, Booker stood up.  He did not want Tom to use sex as a way of silencing him.  “Tell me what he did,” the demanded gently, “Did he hurt you?”

Shaking his head, Tom wondered what he should tell Booker.  He could feel the shame and humiliation burning at his cheeks and he quickly looked away.  As Dennis sat back down on the bed, Tom slowly turned to face him.  Booker’s dark eyes bore into him and he knew he needed to tell the truth otherwise their relationship was worthless.  Taking a deep breath, he described the night’s events.

Dennis sat listening without interrupting.  “I can’t believe he slapped you,” he whispered when Tom had finished.  What upset him the most though, was the thought of Tom writhing on top of Robbie Werner.  _He_ wanted to feel Tom squirming on top of him, moaning his name.   It amused him slightly that Tom thought being on top was girly.  Booker had reached some of his most intense orgasms whilst riding another man.  

Aware that Tom was staring at him, Booker quickly changed his expression but not before Tom asked coldly, “What’s so funny?”

Rubbing his head nervously, Booker knew he had to tread carefully or risk upsetting Tom further.  “Nothing.  It was wrong for him to hit you Tommy and I never thought he would do something like that.  But… um… him wanting you on top?  That’s just… it’s just something guys do sometimes, it doesn’t mean he thought of you as a girl.”

“Oh,” Tom replied as his cheeks reddened.  “I guess I’ve got a lot to learn huh?”  When Booker did not reply, he sighed heavily.  “I ruined it Booker, I told Werner I didn’t want to see him anymore.  I could have made two hundred dollars in a week.”

A feeling of elation rushed through Booker’s body and he ducked his head so Tom would not see the joy on his face.  Quickly composing himself, he looked up and gave Tom a reassuring smile.  “It doesn’t matter, we can still make money and then… then we can leave.”

Pouting seductively, Tom edged in closer as his fingers once again began to massage Booker’s groin.  “Do you still wanna run away with me?” he whispered, smiling mischievously as he felt Booker’s cock twitch beneath his hand.

“Nope,” Booker teased, as he started to nip and suck at the taut skin of Tom’s neck.  “You’re too much work.”

Grinning, Tom gave Dennis’ cock a hard squeeze in retaliation and Booker gasped loudly at the pleasure/pain he felt run through him.  Pushing Tom back on the bed, he quickly straddled Tom’s slim body.  “You’re gonna pay for that McQuaid,” he laughed.  “I’m gonna make you squirm.”

Tom’s pupils enlarged and he gazed back at Booker with dark, seductive eyes.  “Do it,” he whispered, as he reached back and wrapped his fingers around the wooden slats of the headboard.  Witnessing Tom stretched out in supplication, Booker’s body quivered with anticipation.  The thought of Tom tied to the bed flashed across his mind and he groaned loudly.  Leaning forward, he kissed Tom forcefully, as he pulled down his lover’s boxers and freed his semi erect cock.  Tom moaned as Booker began to fondle him.  His hips bucked forward as he felt Dennis’ tongue lick at the tip of his cock.  “I wanna see you,” Tom moaned, “I wanna see your cock.”

It was Booker’s turn to moan.  Awkwardly pulling at his boxers, he groaned in frustration until he finally managed to rid himself of the unwanted material.  Tom’s eyes remained fixed upon Booker’s groin as his lover’s gentle fingers tugged and fondled him.  He watched with fascination as Dennis erection grew without any physical stimulation.  Moaning, Tom thrust his shaft forcefully into Booker’s hand, his eyes silently begging him to pull harder.  Grinning, Booker let go and panting heavily he sat back and murmured playfully, “Tell me what you want.”

“Pull harder,” Tom moaned, as his body writhed underneath Booker’s.  “I wanna come.”

“I dunno,” Booker teased, tweaking one of Tom’s nipples and making him wriggle.  “Maybe… you want me to kiss it.”

Tom’s eyes shimmered with arousal.  “ _Yesss!”_ he panted heavily, “Oh fuck Dennis, yesss!”

Tom’s passionate plea had the desired effect on Booker.  Bending forward, he pressed his lips tenderly against Tom’s weeping cockhead.  A shock went through Tom like an electric charge and he cried out as he thrust his pelvis off the mattress.  Wrapping his lips around Tom’s engorged head, Dennis sucked and licked as his lover squirmed beneath him.  Wanting to see him ejaculate, Booker sat up and enveloping Tom’s cock with his hand, he began to tug up and down as Tom thrust into his fist.  Panting, Booker felt his own cock begin to weep.  “Touch me Tommy,” he begged, “I wanna come with you.”

Tom let go of the headboard and took Booker into his hand.  As they tugged each other fervently, Tom became more vocal, “That… feels… so… fucking… good… oh fuck… harder… oh fuck… _harder!_ … oh fuck… _DENNIS!”_   His orgasm hit violently and he ejaculated forcefully over his stomach.  

Several moments later, Booker threw back his head and cried out Tom’s name as he too climaxed.  Falling forward, he lay on top of Tom and kissed him passionately.  He could feel the stickiness of Tom’s orgasm beneath him and he moaned softly as he envisioned soaping up his lover’s body under the shower.  Slowing down the kiss, Booker gently pulled away and gazed into Tom’s serene face.  “I _love_ you,” he whispered as his finger traced lightly over Tom’s lips.

A lump formed in Tom’s throat.  He could not remember ever hearing those words before.  He knew his mother must have said them to him but he could not remember it.  Feeling slightly insecure, he gave Booker a shy smile.  “I… I love you too.”

Grinning, Booker clambered over Tom’s body and lay down next to him.  Wrapping his arms around his lover he murmured, “You’d better, ‘cause I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Tom did not reply as he processed Booker’s words.  Hearing them aloud made their relationship seem far more real.  He knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to relinquish his body completely to Booker and from then on, there would be no turning back.  

Ever.

**

Emerging from a light doze, Booker nudged Tom gently in the ribs.  “Time to get you clean,” he murmured as he nuzzled into Tom’s neck.  

Tom yawned sleepily.  “Don’t wanna,” he muttered as he pushed his lower lip into a soft pout.  His expression had the desired effect and Booker pulled him into his arms and sucked lovingly on the protruding flesh.  Closing his eyes, Tom moaned quietly as Booker rained kisses up and down his body.  Tom felt his cock once again come alive and he pushed Booker’s hand down to his groin, silently encouraging him to touch him.  

Booker grinned as he lazily sucked on Tom’s taut stomach before lifting his head and giving Tom a playful slap on the thigh. “Come on, shower.”

Groaning loudly, Tom threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.  Booker followed and the two boys entered the bathroom.  Tom waited as Booker adjusted the temperature of the faucets before both boys stepped under the warm water.  Pushing Tom against the wall, Dennis kissed him passionately as his hand wandered down the length of Tom’s torso before stopping at his navel.  He playfully swirled his finger around the indentation as Tom moaned into his mouth.  As Booker began to move his hand back up Tom’s body, Tom nipped him on the lip.  Tasting blood, Booker pulled away and raised his eyebrows in question.  Tom slowly cast his eyes downwards and Booker did not need a second invitation.  Laughing lightly, he let his hand drop back down as he gently began to fondle Tom’s growing erection.  Licking along Tom’s chiseled jaw line, Booker stopped to suck on Tom’s earlobe as he whispered, “I like it when you tell me what to do.”

A soft moan emitted from Tom’s lips.  “Kiss it,” he murmured, his voice husky with arousal.  “Slowly.”

Dropping to his knees, Booker placed one hand on Tom’s hip and the other at the base of Tom’s cock, as he lightly pressed his full lips against Tom’s cockhead.  He savored Tom’s unique taste as he swirled his tongue around the weeping slit.  He continued to pepper kisses over the engorged head as Tom ran his fingers roughly through Booker's wet hair.  The warm water cascaded over their bodies, intensifying their arousal. “Suck me,” Tom panted, as he rocked his hips back and forth.  Booker took Tom’s weeping cock into his mouth.  He skillfully rolled his tongue as he sucked deep and hard.  Tom’s legs started to shake as he felt his second orgasm rising.  He looked down to see that Booker had his hand wrapped around his own cock and was feverishly masturbating.  “FUCK YEAH!” Tom cried as he grasped a handful of Booker’s hair and forcefully slammed his cock in and out of his lover’s willing mouth.  Booker opened up his throat and allowed Tom full access.  “I’m coming… I’m coming,” Tom panted as he thrust deeper into Booker’s mouth.  With a final cry, his hot semen shot into Dennis’ throat.  Tasting Tom’s essence was all it took to push Booker over the edge.  With a moan, he ejaculated over his fingers.  As his body shuddered, he felt Tom’s legs give way and they ended up in a tangled heap on the shower floor.   Laughing, Tom pulled Dennis into a tight hug.  As the water started to run cold, they jumped to their feet and quickly washed away the remnants of their orgasms.  

Exiting the cubicle, they dried each other’s bodies, taking the time to stop every few minutes to press their lips together and kiss tenderly.  Eventually emerging from the steamy room, they dressed in jeans and t-shirts.  Tom moved over to the window and stared out at the busy traffic.  It was Christmas Day and everyone seemed to have a place to go.  A lump formed in his throat, as he thought of Doug all alone in the confines of the juvenile lockup.  He felt Booker’s arm around his waist and he turned and managed a small smile.  “What’s wrong?” Dennis asked, his eyes searching Tom’s face for answers.

“I was thinking about Doug,” Tom replied.  Seeing the look of concern on Booker’s face, he attempted another smile.  “It’s okay.”

The forced smile did not fool Booker and he held Tom close as he whispered, “You’ll see him soon Tommy, in a few months you’ll be together again.”

Tom nodded and pulling away, he moved to the bed and sat down.  Picking up the TV remote, he flicked on to a cheesy Christmas movie, hoping it would take his mind off Doug.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Booker rummaging through his tatty shopping bag before pulling out a rectangular package.  Tom’s heart fluttered; Booker had bought him a Christmas present.  

Walking over, Booker sat down next to Tom and handed him the parcel.  “Merry Christmas Tommy,” he said with a shy smile.  “It’s not much but I hope you like it.”

Tom ripped excitedly at the brown paper wrapper to reveal a worn copy of _To Kill a Mocking Bird_.  His heart hammered in his chest as he tried to think of something to say.  What use was a book to him when he could not read?  Sensing Tom’s discomfort, Booker laid a hand on Tom’s knee.  “Don’t you like it?” he asked quietly.  “I saw your copy of _Catcher_ and I thought you might like this as well.”

The book slipped from Tom’s fingers and he pushed the heels of his hands against his eyes as he choked back a sob.  “I can’t fucking read!” he cried angrily, his shame all consuming.

“ _What?”_ Booker exclaimed in surprise.  “But Tommy, you carry that book around.  I don’t understand.”

“My teacher… gave it… to me,” Tom hiccuped as he roughly wiped away his tears of humiliation with the palm of his hand.  Composing himself, he continued, “This teacher, he was so nice.  He said he’d help me learn and I _really_ wanted to but then Doug got arrested—”

“Shh,” Booker comforted as he held Tom close.  Stroking at Tom’s damp hair, Booker once again realized how little he really knew about Tom McQuaid.  The thought that a fifteen-year-old could not read was incomprehensible to Dennis, who had a great love of books and the written word.  He knew that if Tom wanted to escape from the horrors of street life, he would have to have an education.  Slowly, a plan formed in Booker’s mind.  There was no reason why _he_ could not teach Tom to read.  There was no doubt in Dennis’ mind that Tom had a high intellect, so learning under the right circumstances would not be a problem.  He understood that he would need to exercise patience during his role as teacher.  Tom could be a firecracker when pushed and he did not want his friend to feel disillusioned when it became too difficult.  Smiling, he lifted Tom’s face and gently kissed his lips.  “I love you Tommy,” he murmured lovingly against Tom’s soft pout, “I’ll do anything for you and if you want to learn to read, I’ll teach you.”

A small shiver ran down Tom’s spine and he gazed back adoringly at Booker.  He felt so incredibly lucky to have someone like Dennis in his life.  He was convinced that their chance meeting in a laneway had been fate.  When he had lost his brother and protector, Tom thought his world had shattered.  Now that he had Dennis, Tom felt like he was slowly starting to heal from all the hurt and abuse that he had endured throughout his short life.  

Hugging Booker close, Tom was certain that he would soon be able to give Booker what he most desired, the two things Tom had not yet been able to surrender completely.   His body and his soul.

 


	20. Final Straw

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Shh,” Booker comforted as he held Tom close.  Stroking at Tom’s damp hair, Booker once again realized how little he really knew about Tom McQuaid.  The thought that a fifteen-year-old could not read was incomprehensible to Dennis, who had a great love of books and the written word.  He knew that if Tom wanted to escape from the horrors of street life, he would have to have an education.  Slowly, a plan formed in Booker’s mind.  There was no reason why he could not teach Tom to read.  There was no doubt in Dennis’ mind that Tom had a high intellect, so learning under the right circumstances should not be a problem.  He understood that he would need to exercise patience during his role as teacher.  Tom could be a firecracker when pushed and he did not want his friend to feel disillusioned when it became too difficult.  Smiling, he lifted Tom’s face and gently kissed his lips.  “I love you Tommy,” he murmured lovingly against Tom’s soft pout, “I’ll do anything for you and if you want to learn to read, I’ll teach you.”_
> 
> _A small shiver ran down Tom’s spine and he gazed back adoringly at Booker.  He felt so incredibly lucky to have someone like Dennis in his life.  He was convinced that their chance meeting in a laneway had been fate.  When he had lost his brother and protector, Tom thought his world had shattered.  Now that he had Dennis, Tom felt like he was slowly starting to heal from all the hurt and abuse that he had endured throughout his short life._
> 
> _Hugging Booker close, Tom was certain that he would soon be able to give Booker what he most desired, the two things Tom had not yet been able to surrender completely.   His body and his soul.  
> _

[**Final Straw**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=20) 

New Years came and went in a flash of noisy celebrations.  The festive season had been a lucrative time for the boys, more people on the streets meant more opportunities to solicit their bodies.  For Tom, it was a painful reintroduction to how cruel people could be.  He no longer had the _luxury_ of Robbie Werner’s ministrations and he once again found himself at the mercy of depraved men who took pleasure in causing pain to such a pretty teenager.  Most nights, Booker would enter their hotel room to find Tom sporting a fresh black eye and various other bruises on his slender body.  Dennis begged Tom not to go out but his lover remained resolute.  They were a team and if Booker was prepared to subject himself to the brutalities of the streets, then so was Tom.  Their reward was an increasing pile of money that lay hidden under the wooden floor of their closet.  Every repulsive act they endured brought their escape another day closer.  By Booker’s calculations, they would be able to leave by the end of January.  They needed sufficient money for extra clothing, bus fares, food and accommodation.  Dennis’ idea was that they would relocate to a more rural setting that would afford him work opportunities as an unskilled laborer.  It was Booker’s dream that Tom would be able to enroll in school and continue his education or at the very least maintain a trouble-free existence by selling his sketches for money.  Aware of Tom’s proclivity to lose his temper when he felt Booker was treating him like a child, Dennis had yet to discuss the plan with his lover.  He hoped that over time, Tom would come to accept the idea and embrace it but he knew he had a few battles ahead before he would be able to convince Tom that it was for the best.

Booker had purchased several children’s books from the second hand store so that Tom could start on his lessons.  At first, the teen had refused to look at them, too embarrassed to reveal the true extent of his illiteracy.  Booker took a gentle approach so as not to upset Tom.  Each night he would read one of the books himself, just to show Tom that there was no shame in reading kids' stories.  Bit by bit, Tom’s embarrassment diminished until finally, he picked up one of the books and thumbed through the pages.  Booker watched on, his heart breaking at the sight of Tom’s lips moving as he silently sounded out the words.  He kept his emotions in check, not wanting Tom to see the pity he felt as he watched a fifteen-year-old struggle to read a book written for a nine-year-old.  When Tom had finished, Booker sat down next to him and they read the book aloud together, with Dennis using the phonics method to teach his friend the correspondence between letters and sounds.  After several days, Tom had advanced to a 5th grade level and Dennis had to revisit the second hand store to buy more books.  The elderly woman who ran the store asked Dennis why he needed the books and when he explained, she kindly agreed to buy them back at cost.  A few weeks later, Booker’s patience and perseverance paid off and Tom attempted to read his first novel, S. E. Hinton’s _The Outsiders_.  Booker found it endearing that Tom still silently moved his lips when he read but he did not tease his lover about it.  He felt enormous pride at how quickly Tom had progressed.  Every night both Tom and Dennis spent a quiet hour lost in the fantasy of their stories.  Booker had not picked up a book in years but when he once again revisited _Catcher in the Rye_ , he realized how much he missed it.  He allowed himself the luxury of purchasing several used novels to take with them on their planned journey.  It would take them approximately two days of travel by bus and reading would at least prevent him from brooding over whether or not they were making the right decision.  Their situation was uncertain and there were no guarantees that when they arrived at their final destination, their lives would improve.  Booker just had to keep holding onto the hope that it would all be worthwhile.  If he allowed himself to question his judgment, he knew he would never find the courage to leave.

Opening the door to the hotel room, Booker smiled fondly at the image of Tom sitting on the bed reading.  A frown of concentration creased Tom’s forehead and his freshly washed hair hung in his eyes as he bent his head close to the worn pages.  Booker stood silently for several minutes, reveling in the vision of Tom confidently reading his novel.  An immense feeling of pride welled up within him and he quickly blinked back tears.  Shutting the door, he took the bag of Chinese food he had bought and put it on the bedside table.  Engrossed in his book, Tom did not look up until Booker placed a tender kiss on top of his head.  Tom carefully marked his page before closing the paperback and tossing it onto the bed.  

Booker pulled off his boots and sat down next to his lover.  He had spent six hours on the streets but it had been worth it.  His body ached but he had several hundred dollars in his pocket.  Frowning, he reached out and touched Tom’s neck.  “Jesus Tommy, what the hell happened?” he asked, as he tenderly stroked at the bruising around Tom’s throat.

Tom shrugged, not wanting to explain to Booker about the risk he had taken.  “I’m okay, honest.  Some john just got a little excited.”

“Excited?” Booker replied angrily.  “He fucking _choked_ you!”

Pulling Dennis’ hand away, Tom lowered his head and stared at the floor.  “I said I’m okay, just leave it.” he replied moodily.

Not wanting to press Tom further, Booker stood up and began to undress.  “I’m gonna take a shower, eat something okay?”

Tom nodded, completely understanding how Booker felt.  He himself had arrived home an hour earlier and after securing away the money he had made, he had gone straight into the bathroom and taken a scalding shower.  Even when he was clean, Tom could still smell the stench of the men who had violated him.  He often wondered if he would ever be able to rid himself of the permeating scent that constantly reminded him that he was nothing more than a worthless whore.  His last client had asked for rough sex and at first, Tom had refused.  But when the man waved an extra fifty dollars in front of him, he had reluctantly agreed.  As he lay on the bed with his arms pinned above his head, Tom had felt trapped.  Sitting astride the teenager, the man had used one hand to hold Tom’s wrists as the other repeatedly slapped him around the face.  Once the man was fully aroused, he had shifted one hand to Tom’s neck and as he entered the teenager, he had gently applied pressure.  When he felt Tom struggle beneath him, the man had become aroused even further and he had violently pounded his cock in and out of Tom’s body, all the while increasing his choke hold.  Tom had blacked out just seconds before the man reached his orgasm and when he came to, the man was lying on top of him, breathing heavily.

Not wanting to eat until Booker had finished showering, Tom picked up his book and kept on reading.  He loved the story of Ponyboy and his friends.  Tom thought Booker was very clever to have picked that particular book as his first novel.  So much of the story mirrored Tom’s own life and he found himself relating to the greasers in the narrative.  As he sat staring down at the page, he wondered what Doug would think when he found out that he had actually read a book.  It was something he was looking forward to sharing with his brother when they were once again reunited.

A waft of steam floated into the room as Booker opened the bathroom door.  Naked, he walked over to his tattered bag and pulled out a clean pair of boxers and a black t-shirt.  Once dressed, he climbed onto the bed next to Tom.  “You didn’t eat,” he scolded lightly, hoping their argument was over.  “It’ll be cold now.”

 Putting down his book, Tom smiled seductively, “Doesn’t matter, I wanted to eat with you.”

Placing a hand along the back of Tom’s neck, Booker pulled him in for a kiss.  Tom immediately took advantage and forcing his tongue deep into Booker’s mouth, he pushed him backwards onto the bed and straddled his thighs.  He wanted to consume Dennis and rid his mind of the violence that his last _client_ had inflicted upon him.  With the food now forgotten, he proceeded to kiss his lover passionately as his hands feverishly groped at Dennis' taut body.

Wanting control, Dennis flipped his lover onto his back and sat astride his legs as he forced Tom’s arms above his head.  

With a groan, Tom struggled to get free but Booker held him firm, his hands gripping tightly at his lover’s narrow wrists.  “Get off!” Tom snarled as memories of his previous encounter flashed into his mind.  Feeling Tom writhing beneath him only intensified Booker’s arousal.  Effortlessly using one hand to hold Tom’s wrists, he pulled down Tom’s boxers with the other.  “What do you want Tommy?” Booker breathed heavily as he cupped Tom’s testicles in his hand.

“I want you to fucking get off me!” Tom yelled as he strained against Booker’s hold.

Misreading Tom’s protests as part of a game, Dennis pushed Tom’s shirt up to his chin and leaning forward, he placed his lips against Tom’s nipple and sucked hard.

"STOP!" Tom cried, as panic welled in his chest.  “Please Booker… just _stop!”_

Finally hearing the desperation in Tom’s voice, Dennis slowly sat up.  His eyes widened in horror as he realized that he had completely misinterpreted the situation and he was actually _forcing_ himself onto his lover.  “Oh God, Tommy!” he whispered as he quickly released Tom’s hands.  “I thought you wanted—”

A resounding slap caught Booker on the side of the face.  “You _SON-OF-A-BITCH!”_ Tom screamed as he pushed Dennis roughly away and scrambled from the bed.  

Dennis stared back silently as he rubbed at the stinging red mark on his cheek.  “What did that man do to you?” he asked quietly.

Tom’s breath hitched in his throat as he tried to calm himself.  He glowered back at Booker, too furious and too emotional to speak.  After several minutes he replied sullenly, “I’m so tired of being treated like a bitch.”

“You think I treat you like a bitch?” Booker asked, shocked that Tom would even think such a thing.  

“Sometimes,” Tom muttered sulkily, not wanting to meet Booker’s gaze.

Standing up, Booker moved slowly over to Tom’s side.  He started to reach out but at the last moment, he dropped his hand back to his side.  “I’m sorry Tommy, I thought we were just playing around.”

Tears welled in Tom’s eyes and he began to sob.  “He h-held me d-down, Booker!  H-he had h-his hand around m-my throat and I c-couldn’t breathe!”  Tom collapsed against Dennis’ chest as the enormity of what he had experienced flooded through his body.  Comforting arms enveloped him and he cried out his anger and humiliation until he had no more tears to weep.  Sniffing loudly, he pulled back and managed to give Dennis a weak smile.  

Booker did not return the smile; his face remained strained as he gently pushed Tom’s hair back from his eyes.  “I’m not letting you get hurt again Tommy,” he whispered, “Things are gonna change, starting from tomorrow.”

Tom stared back quizzically.  “What’s happening tomorrow?” he asked quietly.

Walking away, Booker started grabbing up clothing which lay scattered around the room.  “We leave,” he replied, before exiting the room with an armful of dirty laundry.

Tom stood motionless as the door slammed closed.  An immense feeling of relief washed over him.  Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of their lives.  



	21. On the Road

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Booker did not return the smile; his face remained strained as he gently pushed Tom’s hair back from his eyes.  “I’m not letting you get hurt again Tommy,” he whispered, “Things are gonna change, starting from tomorrow.”_
> 
> _Tom stared back quizzically.  “What’s happening tomorrow?” he asked quietly._
> 
> _Walking away, Booker started grabbing up clothing which lay scattered around the room.  “We leave,” he replied, before exiting the room with an armful of dirty laundry._
> 
> _Tom stood motionless as the door slammed closed.  An immense feeling of relief washed over him.  Tomorrow would be the first day of the rest of their lives.  
> _

[**On the Road**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=21) 

The motion of the coach had finally lulled Tom to sleep.  He lay curled up on the seat, his head resting in Dennis’ lap and his trench coat draped over his body.  Booker lightly played with Tom’s hair as he gazed out of the window into the darkness outside.  They had been traveling for fifteen hours and had not yet reached the half way mark of their journey.  In another couple of hours, they would change coaches for their final leg of the trip.  Although tired, Booker found sleep elusive.  He and Tom had chatted happily about their plans for the first few hours and then they had both pulled out their books and silently lost themselves in the world of literary fantasy.  Still not accustomed to reading, Tom’s eyes had grown heavy after only an hour and following a meal of store bought sandwiches, he had gladly laid his head onto Booker’s lap and fallen asleep.  The atmosphere was peaceful, only twenty people sat scattered throughout the coach, most reading or sleeping.  Tom and Dennis sat to the rear, away from the bulk of the passengers.  They did not want their conversations overheard by listening ears.  Technically, they were both runaways, which meant a member of the public could report them if they perceived the boys to be in danger.  That was one of Dennis’ greatest fears.  In the city, it was easy to remain nameless.  People lived busy lives and most did not even notice the scores of dirty children who solicited on the streets.  Moving to the country posed more of a risk.  Two young boys traveling alone could cause people to start asking questions.  Booker was sure he could pass for eighteen but Tommy was a different story.  He looked younger than his fifteen years, which meant he was likely to receive unwanted attention as to why he was traveling with Booker.  Dennis’ only plan was that they masquerade as brothers, with Booker playing the role of guardian.  They had no identification to back up their story but they hoped most would take it at face value and not pursue the matter further.

Feeling Tom shift position, Booker instinctively looked down.  He smiled lovingly when he saw Tom’s sleepy eyes gazing up at him.  “Hey beautiful,” he whispered, “Did you have a good rest?” 

Tom nodded drowsily as a soft smile played upon his lips.  “I’m horny,” he murmured softly, “Play with me.”

Booker’s eyes flickered with arousal at Tom’s words.  Looking around the coach, he could see that their closest neighbor was a man five rows to their right.  His heart fluttered as he bowed his head low so he could whisper in Tom’s ear.  “Are you sure?” he murmured, his cock already beginning to twitch at the anticipation of feeling Tom’s erection in his hand.

“Touch me,” Tom breathed as his liquid brown eyes, pleaded with Dennis.

Not needing any further encouragement, Booker reached under the coat and unbuttoned Tom’s jeans before carefully pulling down the zipper.  Reaching into Tom’s boxers, he gently freed his cock.  Tom let out a soft moan and closed his eyes as Dennis gently played with his growing erection.  Leaning forward, Booker whispered, “Open your eyes, I want you to look at me.”

Tom did as Booker asked and he gazed up at his lover as Dennis tugged and fondled his cock.  He could see the excitement in Booker’s face at the clandestine way he was able to touch his lover without anyone on the coach noticing.  Dennis felt Tom start to rock his hips as his erection enlarged.  “Harder,” Tom whispered his dark eyes wildly imploring with Dennis to comply.

Smiling impishly, Booker immediately slowed his pace.  He wanted to hear Tom plead for release and knowing that he would have to do it quietly made it even more thrilling.  “Beg me,” he murmured as his hand stilled, causing Tom to bite down on his lower lip to prevent himself from groaning.

“Please!” Tom begged through clenched teeth, “Dennis please… I _need_ you to touch me.”

“Like this?” Booker whispered as he once again tugged at Tom’s cock.

Tom only managed a nod as he concentrated on not crying out.  Booker grinned down at his lover and began to work his fist over Tom’s hardened cock.  Tom’s eyes widened as he felt his impending orgasm rising.  His teeth clamped down hard on his lower lip and blood slowly began to seep out.  Booker quickened his pace as their eyes locked.  He felt his own erection straining against his jeans but he ignored it, intent on giving Tom the release he needed.  With a soft cry, Tom’s body shuddered as he ejaculated, his semen covering Dennis’ fingers and the coat concealing his body.  Booker looked up and saw the man sitting in front of them staring back, his eyes emitting a glare of disgust.  Booker could not resist a cheeky grin and the man looked away.  Tucking himself in and zipping up his jeans, Tom struggled to a sitting position.  Leaning over, he kissed Booker lightly on the lips and murmured, “Do you need me to return the favor?”

Booker’s eyes glinted with desire, but he shook his head as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a couple of Kleenex.  Handing one to Tom, he wiped at his messy fingers with the other.  “Better not,” he muttered, “I think that guy over there almost had a heart attack and I don’t want us kicked off the coach.”

Dabbing at the inside of his coat and the bottom of his shirt, Tom smirked wickedly.  “It would almost be worth it,” he chuckled, “Just imagine the look on his face if I bent down and starting sucking you off.”

Dennis’ stomach flip-flopped at the thought of Tommy giving him head right there on the bus.  His cock ached for release but he did not want to risk it.  Shaking his head, he muttered, “Nah, I’ll just go jerk off in the toilet, be back in minute.”

Pouting at not being able to pleasure his lover, Tom stared out at the inky blackness outside.  Tasting blood, he wiped at his lip and smiled to himself.  He had enjoyed their little sex-capade knowing that at any moment someone could walk down the isle of the coach and discover what they were doing.  Tom found the illicit act thrilling and he started imagining other places where he and Booker could secretly explore each other’s bodies.  Looking up he saw the man Booker had told him about, staring at him with a scowl on his face.  Tom sneered at him and the man quickly looked away just as Dennis came back to his seat.  “Is he bothering you?” Booker asked as he sat down and put a protective arm around Tom’s shoulders.

Not wanting Dennis to cause a scene, Tom shook his head and relaxed back against Booker’s body.  Sated from his recent release, Tom closed his eyes and allowed the hum of the road to soothe him back to sleep.

**

The second leg of their journey was less eventful.  The disgruntled man had positioned himself as far away from Tom and Dennis as he could and the boys found themselves alone at the back of the coach.  Dennis slept most of the way, his head resting against Tom’s shoulder.  Tom finished _The Outsiders_ and started on _To Kill a Mocking Bird_.  The story drew him in immediately and he ignored the burning in his eyes so he could continue reading.  After several hours, the heaviness of Booker’s body leaning against him became too uncomfortable and he nudged Dennis lightly.  Opening his eyes, Booker remembered where he was and he sat up and stretched his arms into the air as he yawned loudly.  Leaning over, he placed his lips against Tom’s hair and kissed him lightly.  Tom closed his book and turning to face his lover, he closed his eyes as Booker pressed light kisses down his face until their mouths engaged.  They kissed lazily for several minutes before pulling apart.  Tom smiled contentedly, his initial uncertainty at leaving the city now a distant memory.  The last day and a half had been some of the most relaxing that he could remember.  No longer did he fear physical attacks or abuse from unscrupulous men, all he felt was love from the boy sitting next to him.  Sensing Booker staring at him, he looked up and grinned at his boyfriend.  “What?” he asked, as his eyes searched his partner's face.

“It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful you are,” Booker murmured softly as he trailed a light finger down Tom’s face and along his jaw line.

Tom blushed with embarrassment, making Dennis laugh.  “Sorry Tommy,” he teased, taking delight in Tom’s obvious discomfort.  “But you really are very pretty.”

“Shut up,” Tom mumbled sulkily, his lower lip forming a soft pout, “You know I hate it when you say that.”

Booker moved forward and in an effort to make it right, he attempted to suck on the inviting flesh but Tom pushed him away crossly.  Not giving up, Booker whispered in Tom’s ear, determined to apologize, “Sorry baby,” he murmured as his lips lightly brushed against Tom’s neck, “But I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”

A slow smile formed on Tom’s lips and his bad mood quickly dissipated.  Turning, he placed his palm against Booker’s face.  “I’m the lucky one,” he replied softly, “You rock my world.”

Tears glistened in Dennis’ eyes and he pulled Tom into a tight hug.  He wondered how he had ever survived before he had met Tom.  It seemed impossible that he had lived for sixteen years without his friend by his side.  Sighing contentedly, he settled back against his seat and closing his eyes, he romanticize about their new life together.  



	22. A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “It never ceases to amaze me how beautiful you are,” Booker murmured softly as he trailed a light finger down Tom’s face and along his jaw line._
> 
> _Tom blushed with embarrassment, making Dennis laugh.  “Sorry Tommy,” he teased, taking delight in Tom’s obvious discomfort.  “But you really are very pretty.”_
> 
> _“Shut up,” Tom mumbled sulkily, his lower lip forming a soft pout, “You know I hate it when you say that.”_
> 
> _Booker moved forward and in an effort to make it right, he attempted to suck on the inviting flesh but Tom pushed him away crossly.  Not giving up, Booker whispered in Tom’s ear, determined to apologize, “Sorry baby,” he murmured as his lips lightly brushed against Tom’s neck, “But I just can’t believe how lucky I am.”_
> 
> _A slow smile formed on Tom’s lips and his bad mood quickly dissipated.  Turning, he placed his palm against Booker’s face.  “I’m the lucky one,” he replied softly, “You rock my world.”_
> 
> _Tears glistened in Dennis’ eyes and he pulled Tom into a tight hug.  He wondered how he had ever survived before he had met Tom.  It seemed impossible that he had lived for sixteen years without his friend by his side.  Sighing contentedly, he settled back against his seat and closing his eyes, he romanticize about their new life together._

[**A New Beginning**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=22) 

As the bus slowly pulled into the small terminus, Booker opened his eyes.  Looking out of the window, he realized that it was now morning.  Giving Tom a gentle shake, he got up and stretched out his tired, aching body as Tom grunted next to him.  Laughing, he placed a hand on Tom’s head and ruffled his hair.  “C’mon sleepy head, we’re here.”

Tom groaned as he pulled his cramped legs out from underneath him and stood up.  The coach had emptied quickly and the boys gathered up their belongings and walked down the aisle and out into the cold morning air.  Tom shrugged into his coat and buttoned it up before tying his bandanna around his head.  As he stood stamping his feet in an attempt to keep warm, Booker waited patiently for their bags to be unloaded.  Each boy now had a new _second_ _hand_ holdall and several extra articles of clothing.  They felt well equipped to begin their life afresh in a new town.  Booker had strapped their hard-earned savings to his body.  Living on the streets for three years made him cautious, especially when he was in unfamiliar surroundings.  The last thing they needed was for someone to rob them and leave them with no money to live on.  It could take several weeks for Booker to find work and consequently they needed the money to see them through that time. 

Picking up the two bags, Booker wandered over to Tom who was rubbing his hands in an attempt to warm them.  Dennis handed Tom his bag and indicated with a nod of his head towards the small, enclosed waiting area.  “C’mon, let’s get inside and work out what we’re gonna do.”

Inside, several plastic seats lined the walls and a coffee vending machine sat in one corner.  Booker took several coins out of his pocket and filled two cups with steaming black coffee.  Looking over at Tom, he thought his lover looked lost and vulnerable.  For a moment, Dennis began to doubt whether they were doing the right thing.  They had traveled thousands of miles across the country and they were now in a strange town with nowhere to stay and no idea of how to make money.  Glancing outside, he saw heavy snow falling from the dreary, leaden sky.  It was colder than in the city they had left behind and a moment of panic squeezed at Booker’s chest.  He had hoped to find some type of outside laboring work but he doubted there would be much on offer this time of year.  All of a sudden, he realized that their plan was full of eventualities that they had not considered and the tightness in his chest increased.  He took a deep calming breath as he tried to steady his shaking hands.  He did not want Tom to see the fear and doubt in his eyes and start to question their decision.  After all, they had only just arrived.  Dennis smiled to himself and shook his head slightly.  Nerves were getting the better of him.  They had enough money to see them through for nearly a month if they were careful.  As long as he kept enough money for return tickets if things did not work out as planned, everything would be all right.

Putting the worry out of his mind, he carried the two cups over to where Tom was sitting.  As he handed one to his lover he studied Tom’s tired, pale face.  The red, angry choke marks around Tom’s neck were once again visible now that he had loosened his coat.  Booker felt anger course through his weary body but he pushed it down in an effort to remain calm.  They were out of that situation now and he hoped that no one would ever again lay a hand on his beloved Tommy.  Sitting down, he smiled at his lover as he blew gently on his scolding beverage in an effort to cool it down.  “We need to come up with a last name if we’re gonna pretend to be brothers,” he whispered so the lone station guard sitting behind the ticket counter did not hear them.   

Tom’s face lit up as a name immediately popped into his head.  “How ‘bout Curtis?” he suggested, citing the surname of his favorite _Outsider_ character. 

Booker grinned back.  “Dennis and Tommy Curtis… hmm, I like it.  So the next thing is to find a place to stay.”

“What about him?” Tom nodded his head towards the station guard.  “He could tell us where the cheapest place is.”

Booker studied the elderly guard for several minutes.  He needed to be carefully about what information he divulged and to whom he told it to, as he did not want to raise any undue suspicions.  Eventually, Tom’s obvious fatigue helped Booker to make his mind up.  They needed a place to stay and they needed it now.  Standing up, he wandered casually over to the ticketing booth.  “Hi,” he greeted cheerfully.  “I’m just wondering if you could tell me if there was a cheap place to stay in town.  My brother’s had a long journey and we could really do with some rest.”

The elderly man looked up from his newspaper and scrutinized Dennis and Tom before answering, “How long you planning on staying?”

Using his most engaging smile, Booker replied, “A while I hope.  I’m looking for work and I want to enroll my brother in school here.”

A deep scowl blackened Tom’s face.  It was the first he had heard Booker mention that he wanted him to go back to school.  As he rose to his feet and started to complain, Booker turned and shot him a look that told him to keep his mouth shut.  Tom sat back down, his expression sullen as he gave Booker a furious look.  He was outraged that Booker once again felt the need to treat him like a child.  They were only ten months apart in age and yet Dennis always assumed the adult role.  Tom began to feel that there might be a lot more that Booker had failed to discuss with him.  He suddenly felt extremely alone.  If he could not trust Booker, who could he trust?

The station guard scratched his head for a moment before replying, “You could try the Henderson’s place, they sometimes let out their converted barn to farmhands and the like.  Don’t know if they’re looking for laborers but they’re real nice folks and they’ll treat you right.”

Dennis felt a huge burden lift from his shoulders.  The Henderson farm sounded idyllic, especially if there was work on offer.  “How far out of town is it?” he asked, trying hard to keep the excitement out of his voice.

The old man pondered for a moment.  “About four mile, give or take.  Fit young lads like yourselves should be able to walk it in no time, even with the snow.”

Booker grinned happily, as he asked the guard to draw him a map.  Thanking the man for his help, he returned to give his lover the good news.  Tom greeted him with a thunderous look and Booker knew all too well that the teen was about to explode.  “Don’t,” he warned, as he shoved Tom’s bag into his arms.  “Wait ‘til we get outside.”

Angrily pushing the door open, Tom walked outside.  The cold hit him immediately and he dropped his bag so he could button up his coat.  When a hand lightly touched his shoulder, he shrugged it off and turned to face Booker.  “I’m not going to school!” he yelled, his eyes flashing with fury.  “Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, you _fucking_ asshole?  You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Who _am_ I?” Dennis screamed back, his over-tiredness finally making him snap.  “I’m the fucking guy whose gonna be working my ass off to keep a roof over your head you selfish little prick!”

Tears pricked at Tom’s eyes and lifting up his bag, he stormed off down the road.  He heard Booker calling after him but he did not stop.  Blinded by his tears and the falling snow, he did not see the man walking towards him until he bumped into him.  “Whoa,” the man said, as he grabbed Tom by the shoulder, “Is everything okay son?”

Before Tom could answer, Booker arrived at his side, panting heavily from the exertion of running through the snow.  “Sorry,” Dennis apologized to the middle-aged man, “My brother’s a little tired and upset.” 

Casting his eyes over Dennis and Tom, Jonathan Wilson wondered what two boys were doing wandering outside with their bags in a middle of a snowstorm.  As he studied their faces, he thought the younger of the two looked overwrought and in need of some care and attention.  The older one he surmised, was more in control and unlikely to break down under duress.  When he saw the younger boy start to shiver, he knew he could not just walk away.  “Where are you headed?” he asked kindly, “I could give you a lift if you want.”

Booker narrowed his eyes and stared at the man guardedly.  He had lived on the streets long enough to know not to trust strangers, especially men.  As he started to turn down the man’s invitation, he caught sight of Tom’s tired, white face and he knew they needed to get out of the cold.  In addition, neither boy had eaten anything much except a couple of sandwiches over the last twenty-four hours.  A hot meal certainly would not go astray and Booker felt certain that once Tom had a full belly and a place to lay his head, his bad mood would quickly evaporate.

Placing an arm around Tom’s shoulders, Booker addressed the man.  “We’ve just arrived in town, I’m Dennis and this is my brother Tom.  We could really use something to eat and the station guard gave us directions to a farmhouse.  He said they might have somewhere we could stay.”

“The Henderson place?” Jonathan asked and Booker nodded.  Hesitating for just a moment the man smiled.  “Come on, Betty’s Diner is just across the road.  You can have a meal then I’ll drive you up to Henry and Lou’s.”

“That would be great, thanks,” Dennis replied gratefully.  Tom refused to speak, his face still wearing a sullen scowl.  As the man led the way, Booker pulled Tommy in close.  “Don’t blow this,” he warned.  “At least try and pretend to be nice.”

Tom jerked free of Dennis’ arm.  “Fuck you,’ he muttered under his breath.  He felt betrayed by the one person he trusted with his life.  Until Booker could prove to him that he had not lied about anything else, Tom was in no mood to forgive and forget.  

 

 


	23. A Place to Call Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Placing an arm around Tom’s shoulders, Booker addressed the man. “We’ve just arrived in town, I’m Dennis and this is my brother Tom. We could really use something to eat and the station guard gave us directions to a farmhouse. He said they might have somewhere we could stay.”_
> 
> _“The Henderson’s place?” Jonathan asked and Booker nodded. Hesitating for just a moment the man smiled. “Come on, Betty’s Diner is just across the road. You can have a meal then I’ll drive you up to Henry and Lou’s.”_
> 
> _“That would be great, thanks,” Dennis replied gratefully. Tom refused to speak, his face still wearing a sullen scowl. As the man led the way, Booker pulled Tommy in close. “Don’t blow this,” he warned. “At least try and pretend to be nice.”_
> 
> _Tom jerked free of Dennis’ arm. “Fuck you,’ he muttered under his breath. He felt betrayed by the one person he trusted with his life. Until Booker could prove to him that he had not lied about anything else, Tom was in no mood to forgive and forget._

[**A Place to Call Home**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=23) 

Betty’s Diner smelt of bacon and coffee.  Tom and Dennis sat at the counter devouring huge plates of bacon and eggs.  Jonathan sat next to Booker, watching the boys eat whilst he sipped at his coffee.  He and Booker engaged in idle conversation but Tom remained silent throughout, refusing to respond to any of Dennis’ words or touches.  When they had finished, Jonathan offered to pay the check but Dennis refused, not wanting to owe the man any favors.  Glancing over at Tom’s pale face, Jonathan rose from his stool.  “Your little brother looks tired, I’ll drive you to the Henderson farm so we can see what they say about you staying there,” he said, as he pulled on his coat.

“I’m not little!” Tom snapped angrily.  “I’m fifteen!”

“Tommy,” Booker warned, his eyes pleading with Tom to calm down.  He turned his attention to Jonathan and flashed him a half smile.  “Sorry, he’s not normally this angry; it’s been a long few days.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jonathan replied reassuringly.  “I have a teenage son so I know all about mood swings.”

Climbing into the man’s SUV, Booker was grateful for the ride.  The snow lay heavy on the ground and walking through it would have been hard work.  Within fifteen minutes, they reached a pleasant looking farmhouse.  Jonathan parked the car and they walked up to a spacious porch.  Knocking on the rickety screen door, they waited patiently for the heavy oak door to open.  A rather large elderly woman peered out, her face flushed from baking.  “Jonathan Wilson!” she exclaimed happily as she pushed open the door.  “Come in, come in, get out of the cold.”

They entered the warm kitchen together.  Tom and Dennis hung back, shyness suddenly rendering them both mute but Jonathan took charge and introduced the two boys.  “Louisa, this is Dennis and this is Tom, they are looking for a place to stay and some work if you and Henry can offer any.”

Louisa threw her hands up in the air.  “Oh my Lord!” she exclaimed, as she rushed over to the two boys.  “You look frozen solid the pair of you.  Come sit by the fire and warm up and I’ll make a hot drink.”

Tom and Booker found themselves pulled over to a raging fireplace and pushed down onto two old rocking chairs.  Louisa busied herself making a jug of hot chocolate, her constant chatter overwhelming the boys who were used to peace and quiet.  “I’ll have to speak to Henry of course but there’s no reason that I can see why you can’t have the barn.  It’s fully contained, with two bedrooms so you won’t have to share.  We’ve some odd chores that need doing.  Henry’s getting too old to climb ladders and such like so I’m sure he’d appreciate the help.”  

The woman hesitated for a moment as she stared at Tom.  Embarrassed, Tom ducked his head so he would not have to bear her scrutiny.  He jumped slightly when he felt a soft, warm hand stroke his hair.  “This little one should be in school,” Louisa murmured softly before turning to Booker.  “Where are your parents?”

“Dead,” Dennis replied flatly, his heart hammering in his chest as he waited for Tom to react to the _little_ reference.

But Tom remained silent, his head still bowed as Louisa’s hand remained resting on top of his head.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry,” Louisa crooned sadly.  She pondered for a moment as she continued to stroke Tom’s hair.  Booker caught a glance at Tom’s face and he saw that the teen’s eyes had closed and his face was tranquil.  Dennis felt a dull ache in his heart for the boy who craved love and affection from anyone who would give it to him.  Tears filled his eyes and he quickly brushed them away before anyone could see. 

The sound of heavy boots on the wooden porch had everyone’s heads turning towards the door.  When it opened, a tall, thin, elderly man walked in.  He stopped in surprise when he found his kitchen full of people.  He recognized Jonathan, and taking off his hat, he offered his hand.  “Jon,” he greeted warmly before stepping up to his wife and giving her a kiss on the cheek.  “So Mother, who are these two strapping young lads?” he asked pleasantly.

“Henry, this is Dennis and this is Tom.  They’re looking for a place to stay and some paid work,” Louisa answered.

“Is that right?” Henry Henderson replied, as he looked the two boys over.  “Where’re you from fellas?”

“California,” Booker answered quickly.  “Our parents died so we’re on our own.  I’m a hard worker sir, if you give me a chance I know—”

“No need to sell yourself son, I was merely asking a question,” Henry replied in his slow drawl.  He sat at the old wooden table and took out his pipe.  As he slowly and meticulously packed it with tobacco, he studied the two teenagers in front of him.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly as several minutes passed.  Beginning to feel uncomfortable, Booker stood up and gave the three grownups a weak smile.  “Thanks for the drinks ma’am, I think maybe Tom and I should be going.”

“Nonsense!” Louisa exclaimed loudly.  Turning to her husband, she stared at him crossly.  “Henry Stanley Henderson, if you send those boys back out into the cold I’ll—”

“Calm down Mother,” Henry chuckled, “I didn’t say they couldn’t stay, I was just having a think.”  Turning towards Jonathan, he puffed heavily on his pipe and a cloud of sweet smelling tobacco smoke slowly veiled his face.  “What do you think Jon?” he asked, “I’m not likely to get myself into any bother by harboring these two runaways am I?”

Booker’s heart leaped into his throat and he stared down at Tom in despair.  He considered picking up their bags and running but his feet felt as though they were made of cement.  Tom stared back at him in fear, his dark eyes huge in his pale, gaunt face.  Booker knew he needed to think quickly but his mind turned to sludge and he stood beside Tom, his mouth gaping open, unable to speak. 

“I don’t think anyone need know Henry, but I do believe they owe you the truth if you’re going to be kind enough to let them stay,” Jonathan replied softly, his eyes looking directly at Booker.

Henry nodded his head.  “So,” he said, as he puffed lazily on his pipe.  “Do you want to tell me what you’re running from?”

Booker felt a tugging at his sleeve and looking down, he saw Tom’s mortified expression.  “Don’t,” Tom begged in a whisper, “Please Dennis, don’t.”

Louisa dropped to her knees and pulled Tom to her heavy bosom.  “It’s okay sugar,” she soothed, “You’re not in any trouble, Henry just wants to know your story, isn’t that right Father?”

“That’s right,” Henry replied quietly.  “Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of boys, as long as you tell the truth.”

Booker’s legs felt weak and he sat back down heavily onto the rocking chair.  He turned to Tommy and begged with his eyes for forgiveness as he slowly started to tell their story.  When he thought about it afterwards, he was surprised that he had been so open.  He talked of the beatings, the sexual abuse and the prostitution. He kept quiet about his and Tom’s relationship, unsure as to how the elderly couple would react.  As he talked, Louisa dabbed at her eyes with her apron, occasionally crying out _“Oh my boys!”_ before once again falling quiet.  Henry sat silently smoking his pipe, his brow drawn into a deep frown whilst Jonathan remained standing, his jaw clenching and unclenching as Booker described their living nightmare. 

When he had finished, Booker looked across at Tom and saw that his lover had covered his head with his arms, as if trying to block out the sound of Dennis’ voice.  Reaching across, Booker touched Tom’s thigh but received no response.  Ignoring the adults, he knelt in front of Tommy’s chair and gently pulled away his arms.  Tom’s tear stained face stared back at him and leaning forward, he lightly kissed his lover’s forehead.  The only sound in the room was the loud ticking of the mantel clock and for several minutes, Dennis held Tom in his arms, murmuring comforting words into his ear.

The sound of Henry clearing his throat brought Booker back to reality.  Releasing Tom, Booker stood up and faced his audience.  Henry tapped his pipe on the table and cleared his throat again before speaking, “I have a couple of rules if you want to stick around,” he said in a no nonsense manner.  “Rule number one is the young lad goes to school.”

Tom’s head shot up and he began to protest but Henry interrupted him, “Now, now lad, it’s for the best.  We’ll tell people you’re our grand nephews, no one will ask questions.  You’ll thank me one day when you have your education.”

Realizing that arguing was futile, Tom nodded back reluctantly.  Pleased that he had made inroads, Henry continued, “Rule number two, there’s to be no cussing in front of Mother, no drinking and no drugs and that includes tobacco, agreed?”

Both boys nodded silently; too stunned by everything that had happened to speak.

Henry started to repack his pipe.  His arthritic fingers moved slowly but precisely as he pushed the loose tobacco into the small bowl.  “Now for the housing arrangements,” he said as he struck a match on the wooden table and slowly sucked on the stem of his pipe.  “You can live in the barn.  There’ll be no cost as long as this one,” he nodded at Booker, “does odd jobs around the farm.  I can pay a little money, but it won’t be much.”

Tom finally found the nerve to speak up, “Shouldn’t Dennis go to school too?” he asked grumpily, still not thrilled with the idea that he was being forced back into the education system.

Henry shook his head slowly.  “Sorry boy, but I can’t afford to send you both.  It’s one or the other.”

As much as it pained him, Tom knew it would have to be him.  He hated to admit it but Booker was far more capable of physical labor than he was.  Sighing heavily, he gave a begrudging smile.  “Okay, I guess it’s gonna be me then.”

Louisa smiled happily, as she took a freshly baked loaf of bread out of the oven.  Jonathan Wilson shook Henry’s hand and after kissing Louisa on the cheek, he made his farewells.

As Louisa bustled around the kitchen, fixing pancakes and coffee, Booker’s emotions overwhelmed him and he pulled Tom into his arms.  “We did it baby,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, “We’ve finally found a place to call home.”  



	24. Now and Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom finally found the nerve to speak up, “Shouldn’t Dennis go to school too?” he asked grumpily, still not thrilled with the idea that he was being forced back into the education system._
> 
> _Henry shook his head slowly.  “Sorry boy, but I can’t afford to send you both.  It’s one or the other.”_
> 
> _As much as it pained him, Tom knew it would have to be him.  He hated to admit it but Booker was far more capable of physical labor than he was.  Sighing heavily, he gave a begrudging smile.  “Okay, I guess it’s gonna be me then.”_
> 
> _Louisa smiled happily, as she took a freshly baked loaf of bread out of the oven.  Jonathan Wilson shook Henry’s hand and after kissing Louisa on the cheek, he made his farewells._
> 
> _As Louisa bustled around the kitchen, fixing pancakes and coffee, Booker’s emotions overwhelmed him and he pulled Tom into his arms.  “We did it baby,” he whispered in Tom’s ear, “We’ve finally found a place to call home.”_

[**Now and Always**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=24) 

After a second breakfast of pancakes and syrup, Louisa had escorted the boys outside and to their new residence.  The Hendersons had converted the barn into a two bedroom house, complete with bathroom and an open plan kitchen and living area.  The décor was modern and light, giving the illusion of space.  Tom walked from room to room, his eyes wide with excitement.  Never in his life had he stayed anywhere so beautiful and he felt overwhelmed by how lucky he was.  Louisa watched on, occasionally dabbing at her eyes when her emotions got the better of her.  She explained how all the appliances worked but insisted that Tom and Dennis eat with them every night up at the farmhouse.  When she saw their meager possessions, she offered to take the boys shopping.  Booker politely refused but when Louisa pointed out that Tom would need new clothes for school, otherwise he might be teased for looking different, Dennis reluctantly said yes but only if they paid for some of the purchases.  Wiping at her teary eyes, the old woman agreed.  Kissing the two boys on the cheek, she finally left them to enjoy their new home.

Booker stood at the window and watched Louisa walk down the narrow path and disappear from sight.  Drawing the curtain, he latched the door before turning to Tom.  “Hey gorgeous,” he murmured, as he laid his hands on his lover’s hips and leaned in for a kiss.  

Tom backed away, his expression worried.  “Maybe we shouldn’t, what if they see us?” he muttered, his eyes staring at the locked door as if expecting Louisa or Henry to burst in at any moment.

“It’s locked Tommy,” Booker replied, putting his fingers in the belt loops of Tom’s jeans and pulling the teen close.  “They’d have to knock first.”

Tom’s expression relaxed slightly and he let Booker kiss him lightly on the lips.  Wanting more, Booker’s fingers moved downwards and he cupped Tom’s groin in his hand.  “Let’s try out the bed,” he whispered as he nipped and sucked on Tom’s earlobe.

“I’m tired,” Tom murmured, although his body contradicted his words and his cock began to swell as Booker stroked and fondled him through his jeans.

Dennis’ voice was gentle as he whispered, “You can lie back and let me do all the work.”

Tom grinned as he nuzzled into Booker’s neck.  “Will you suck me slowly?” he asked, his voice husky with arousal.

Moaning quietly, Booker replied, “Whatever you want baby,” as his hands moved to Tom’s buttocks.  Patting a cheek playfully, he took hold of Tom’s hand and led him into the larger of the two bedrooms.  He quickly undressed as Tom stood looking on.  Once naked, he took pleasure in undressing Tom, taking time to kiss and lick at his bare flesh.  Finding Tom’s hot mouth, he kissed him passionately as he gently steered him backwards towards the bed.  They crawled onto the mattress, their mouths clashing as their fervor intensified.  Breaking apart, Booker gazed down lovingly at his boyfriend.  “Do you still want me to suck you baby?” he whispered, as he stroked a finger over Tom’s pouting lips.

“Play with me first,” Tom murmured, as he smiled drowsily, “and I wanna watch you touch yourself.” 

Kneeling up, Booker told Tom to bend his knees and spread his legs.  Positioning himself in between Tom’s thighs, he began to stroke and caress Tom’s growing erection whilst gently touching his own swelling cock.  Tom’s eyes turned black as his pupils dilated.  “Kiss it,” he whispered, wanting to feel Dennis’ warm lips against his engorged head.  Grinning, Booker placed both hands on either side of Tom’s body and ducking his head, he pressed his lips lightly against Tom’s cockhead.  A loud groan from Tom made him smile and he sucked gently using only his lips before darting out his tongue and swirling it around the weeping tip.  Tom’s hips pushed upwards, signaling that he wanted more.  “Suck me Dennis,” Tom begged softly, his fingers entwining in Booker’s dark hair.  Taking a deep breath, Dennis took Tom into his mouth.  The feel of Booker’s hot mouth wrapped around his cock had Tom crying out with ecstasy.  He forcefully jerked up his hips and his cock rammed deep into Booker’s throat.  Holding Dennis’ head, Tom thrust in and out of his lover’s mouth, groaning loudly.  Booker grasped his own erection and started to pull, his soft moans vibrating against Tom’s cock.  “I’m coming,” Tom panted, “Oh fuck Dennis… so good… so good… so… _FUUUCK!”_   Tom’s scream resonated around the room as his orgasm shot into Booker’s willing mouth.  

Swallowing deeply, Dennis did not take his usual time to lap and kiss at Tom’s softening cock.  He immediately sat up so Tom could watch him as he tugged at his hard, weeping cock.  He started to groan when he saw Tom’s hypnotized expression.  “Faster,” Tom instructed as he licked his lips in anticipation.  “Oh fuck,” Booker gasped, as his hand worked faster and faster and he stared deep into Tom’s eyes.  “Tommy… Tommy… I love… I love… I love… _YOOOU!”_   Tom watched in delight as semen spurted over Booker’s fingers and his body shuddered violently.  When the spasms finally subsided, Dennis slumped forward onto Tom’s torso, panting heavily.  

Tom coiled his legs around his lover’s body and held him tight.  “I love you too,” he whispered into Dennis’ ear, “Now and always.”

Booker moaned happily before lifting his head and pressing his lips against Tom’s.  “Now and always,” he repeated softly as gazed down at his lover, “That means forever.”

“Forever and ever,” Tom murmured, as his eyelids grew heavy.  “You’re my everything.”

Smiling happily Booker rolled over and pulled Tom so he was spooned against him.  “And you’re mine,” he whispered before closing his eyes and drifting into a contented sleep.

**

Waking several hours later, Tom and Dennis spent a blissful hour lazing on the comfortable bed before showering and dressing.  They wandered around the barn, opening cupboards and exploring the rooms before unpacking.  As they began to hang their clothing in the main bedroom’s closet, Tom suddenly paused.  “Maybe I should put my clothes in the other room and mess up the bed, you know, so they think I sleep there.”

Booker’s brow knitted into a frown.  “Would you care if they found out that you slept with me?” he asked warily, afraid of ruining Tom’s good mood.

Tom rubbed at the back of his neck.  “I dunno, I mean, they’re old and they might not understand,” he replied.

Booker grinned widely.  “If you don’t want them to find out, you’d better stop screaming my name, ‘cause I reckon they heard you back in California.”

Grabbing a shirt from the closet, Tom swiped playfully at Booker’s legs.  “Yeah right, I reckon it was you who was making all the noise,” he laughed as he began to mimic Booker’s post orgasm mutterings, “ _I love you Tommy, oh Tommy, I love you!”_

Dennis’s face turned red.  “Asshole,” he muttered with a grin as he continued to unpack his clothes.  “You’re just as bad.”

“That’s ‘cause you make me hot,” Tom murmured, stepping forward and kissing Dennis tenderly on the lips whilst his hands clutched at his shirt front.

Booker pushed him gently away.  “Don’t start, ‘cause this time I might not be able to stop.”

Tom’s eyes searched Dennis’ face for an explanation but his lover quickly averted his eyes.  A sinking feeling pulled at Tom’s stomach and picking up his clothes, he carried them into the other room.  He recognized that Booker needed more and he wanted to give him more but he still did not feel ready to surrender his body completely.  

He wondered if he would ever know when the right time would be.  

 


	25. Learning to Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Booker’s brow knitted into a frown.  “Would you care if they found out that you slept with me?” he asked warily, afraid of ruining Tom’s good mood._
> 
> _Tom rubbed at the back of his neck.  “I dunno, I mean, they’re old and they might not understand,” he replied._
> 
> _Booker grinned widely.  “If you don’t want them to find out, you’d better stop screaming my name, ‘cause I reckon they heard you back in California.”_
> 
> _Grabbing a shirt from the closet, Tom swiped playfully at Booker’s legs.  “Yeah right, I reckon it was you who was making all the noise,” he laughed as he began to mimic Booker’s post orgasm mutterings, “I love you Tommy, oh Tommy, I love you!”_
> 
> _Dennis’s face turned red.  “Asshole,” he muttered with a grin as he continued to unpack his clothes.  “You’re just as bad.”_
> 
> _“That’s ‘cause you make me hot,” Tom murmured, stepping forward and kissing Dennis tenderly on the lips whilst his hands clutched at his shirt front._
> 
> _Booker pushed him gently away.  “Don’t start, ‘cause this time I might not be able to stop.”_
> 
> _Tom’s eyes searched Dennis’ face for an explanation but his lover quickly averted his eyes.  A sinking feeling pulled at Tom’s stomach and picking up his clothes, he carried them into the other room.  He recognized that Booker needed more and he wanted to give him more but he still did not feel ready to surrender his body completely._
> 
> _He wondered if he would ever know when the right time would be.  
> _

[**Learning to Fly**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=25) 

Louisa managed to persuade Henry that it would be in Tom’s best interest to commence at Lillydale High School after Presidents’ Day.  That gave Tom three carefree weeks to do as he pleased.  He enjoyed helping Booker around the farm in any way he could, as that meant he could be close to his lover during the daytime as well as at night.  He continued to read every day and was close to finishing _To Kill a Mocking Bird._   When Louisa noticed a scribbled drawing on the back of an old envelope, she immediately took Tom into town and bought him some art supplies.  Whilst they were there, she had also taken him clothes shopping in preparation for his first day back at school.  It was the first time since he was a small boy that Tom owned something that was brand new and not one of Doug’s cast-offs.  When he came home, Dennis begged him to put on the new clothing so he could see what he looked like in something other than ripped jeans and stained t-shirts.  Tears filled Booker’s eyes when Tom stepped out of the bedroom dressed in a pair of khaki cargo pants, a gray sweatshirt and sneakers.  A smile played on Dennis’ lips as he noticed the worn bandanna still tied around Tom’s head.  Walking over, he gently pulled it off.  “You can’t wear that to school,” he teased gently, “People will think you’re a delinquent.”

“So?  I don’t give a fuck what they think,” Tom replied sullenly as he tugged at the unfamiliar clothing.  “I feel stupid, why can’t I wear _my_ clothes?”

Taking Tom by the hand, Dennis led him over to the couch.  Sitting down, he put his arm around his lover and pulled him close so Tom’s head rested on his shoulder.  “You want to fit in don’t you?” he asked.  When Tom remained stubbornly silent, Booker let out a soft sigh.  “This is your second chance Tommy.  You can get the education you deserve and mix with people your own age, maybe make some friends and hang out—”

“I don’t need friends,” Tom muttered, “I have you.”

“That’s not the same,” Booker replied, as he lightly toyed with Tom’s hair.  “It’ll do you good to spread your wings a little instead of always being with me.”

Jerking away from Dennis’ arm, Tom stared at his boyfriend in disbelief.  “I thought you _liked_ having me around!  Now you sound like you can’t wait to get rid of me.”

Placing a hand at the back of Tom’s head, Booker pulled him in close.  “You _know_ I want you with me,” he murmured lovingly as his lips played lightly over Tom’s pout.  “But there’s a big wide world out there Tommy and I want you to experience it.”

Deep down, Tom knew that Booker was right.  What Henry and Louisa had offered him _was_ a second chance and he felt incredibly fortunate that two elderly strangers were prepared to take a gamble and give them a safe place to stay, especially after knowing his and Booker’s background.   Tom lay back on the couch and playfully pulled Booker on top of him.  “Okay,” he conceded with a smile, as Booker’s hot mouth explored his neck whilst his hands found their way under Tom’s sweatshirt so they could stroke and tweak his nipples.  “I’ll be a good boy,”

Dennis moaned into Tom’s mouth.  “Show me what a good boy you are,” he whispered longingly.

Smiling in amusement, Tom used his hands and mouth to show Booker _exactly_ how good he could be.

**

As the time for Tom to start school drew nearer, the teen’s nerves returned and he became moody and withdrawn.  Booker tried his best to reassure his lover that everything would be all right but more often than not, they ended up in an argument.  Tom accused Dennis of not understanding how difficult it was for him and Booker accused Tom of overreacting.  Louisa’s intuition told her that the boy’s were going through a difficult time, so on the night before Tom started school, she suggested that they eat alone in their own home, rather than in the farm house with her and Henry as they usually did.  She cooked a huge meal of roast beef and vegetables, which she carried over to the barn.  She immediately noticed Tom’s moody disposition, so after instructing the boys to reheat the food on a low temperature in the oven, she quickly said her goodbyes.

When the barn door had closed, Booker rounded on Tom.  “You could have at least _tried_ to be nice.  This self pitying bullshit is really starting to piss me off.”

“Yeah?’ Tom replied, his eyes flashing with anger, “You forever telling me to be nice is what’s pissing _me_ off!”

Booker picked up plates and cutlery and banged them down heavily as he set the table.  “Do you know what your problem is Tom McQuaid?  You’re an ungrateful little shit.  Henry and Louisa are offering you an unbelievable chance to make something of yourself and all you do is whine.  For fuck’s sake!  You really need to start growing up and stop feeling so fucking sorry for yourself.  So you had a shit life.  Well guess what, so did I!  You’re not special because your Dad beat and raped you.  It happens to hundreds of kids every day and I bet if they were given the opportunity you’ve been given, they’d embrace it, not fucking moan about how hard it is.”

Tom stared back at Booker silently, his hands balled into fists.  “Have you finished?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Rubbing his hands roughly over his face in frustration, Booker turned away and checked to see if the food was ready.  “Yeah Tommy, I’ve finished.  Do what you want, I’m too tired to care.”  He heard a loud bang and when he turned back, Tom was gone.  Turning off the oven, he checked in their bedroom but there was no sign of his lover.  Opening the door to the spare room, he saw Tom curled up on top of the bed.  He hesitated a moment before speaking wearily.  “Come on Tommy, dinner’s ready.”

“I’m not hungry,” Tom mumbled, his voice sounding teary.

With a sigh, Booker entered the room and sat on the bed.  Placing a hand on Tom’s leg, he spoke gently but firmly.  “You need to eat.”

“Why?” Tom muttered into the pillow.  “It’s not gonna make me any smarter.”

“Is that what’s bothering you?” Booker asked quietly.  When Tom did not respond, Booker crawled onto the bed and pulled Tom into his arms.  “Oh Tommy,” he breathed as he gently wiped the tears from his lover’s cheek.  “I’ve told you before, it’s not that you’re not smart, it’s just that you’ve never been given a chance.  But Henry and Louisa are _giving_ you that chance.  You may not believe it, but I’m really proud of you.”

Rolling over, Tom turned his tear stained face to Booker.  “Really?” he asked shyly.

“Really,” Dennis replied as he kissed Tom’s wet cheek.  “Now come and eat something otherwise Louisa will get upset.”

Allowing Booker to lead him from the bedroom, Tom sat at the kitchen table and picked at his food.  His stomach had churned itself into a tight knot and he had no appetite.  Dennis did not push him, deciding that it was better to leave Tom alone rather than baby him and risk another argument.  When Booker stood up and started washing the dishes, Tom did not offer to help.  Instead, he walked into their bedroom and shut the door without bothering to say goodnight.  For a brief moment, Booker considered storming into the bedroom and telling Tom once again, what he thought of his behavior.  However, he decided against it.  He hoped that once Tom faced his fear and realized that school was not that bad, everything would return to normal.

Even though he was tired from laboring all day, Dennis sat up until almost midnight watching television.  When he finally crawled into bed, Tom was fast asleep.  Sighing heavily, Booker turned his back to his lover and closing his eyes, he fell into a troubled sleep.

**

Sitting outside the Principal’s office, Tom nervously fingered his tatty bandanna, which he had secreted in his jacket pocket.  Louisa had offered to stay with him but Tom had politely declined the invitation, not wanting to appear weak and incompetent.  Peering through his long bangs, he studied the students who hurried past on their way to class.  All were well dressed in modern clothing and Tom was immediately grateful to Henry and Louisa for spending their hard-earned cash on him in an effort to help him fit in.  Several students looked at him as they walked past and Tom immediately lowered his head, too shy to meet their curious stares.  

Several minutes later, Principal Ernest Cowen called Tom into his office.  Tom’s anxiety level intensified and he felt like vomiting.  Clenching his fists, he stood up and followed the head teacher into a spacious room.  “Sit down Thomas,” Cowan instructed, before taking a seat on the other side of the desk.  

Chewing on his lower lip, Tom had an eerie feeling of déjà vu as he muttered quietly, “It’s not Thomas, it’s Tom.”

Ernest Cowan looked up from the paperwork he had been studying.  For several moments he studied the boy in front of him.  Although small for his age, Cowan thought he had a look of someone who had seen too much of life and not in a pleasant way.  Louisa Henderson had enrolled the boy as her grandnephew but Ernest had doubts as to the validity of that statement. However, as most people regarded Henry and Louisa Henderson as trustworthy pillars of the community, Cowan was prepared to overlook any inconsistencies in the information Louisa had provided about her young _relative_.  In Cowan’s opinion, the teenager in front of him looked as though he needed some gentle guidance and patient teachings to get him on the road to success.  Smiling, he offered his apologies, “Sorry Tom.  I’m Principal Cowan, welcome to Lillydale High.  Now, there are a few formalities we need to take care of as it appears your Great Aunt has misplaced your school records.”  Cowan was well aware that Louisa had done no such thing.  When he had explained to her during their meeting that he could phone Tom’s previous school and have the records sent through, the elderly woman had visibly paled.  It was then that Cowan knew that the Hendersons were hiding something.  But he was a fair and compassionate man who did not believe in denying any child an education.  Therefore, he had assured Louisa that the records were not necessary.

Tom’s back stiffened as he waited for the Principal to continue.  He knew what was coming next.  Louisa had explained to him that because of the lack of information regarding his academic achievements, he would have to sit a test to determine which grade he would be best suited to start in.  The knot in his stomach squeezed tighter as his blood pressure increased.  The pounding in his ears almost prevented him from hearing what Principal Cowan said next.  “… so you’ll sit the test and that will give us an idea as to where you are, academically speaking.  We offer many programs here at Lillydale that are designed to help those with learning difficulties and—”

“Learning difficulties?” Tom repeated, his face flushing red with anger.  “Are you calling me stupid?”

Principal Cowan leaned back in his chair and projected a calming presence.  “No Tom, I’m not calling you stupid.  If you had let me finish you would know that I was about to add that we also have programs to help students catch up when they have missed a lot of schooling.  Your Aunt mentioned that due to family circumstances, you had been unable to attend your old school on a regular basis.”

“Oh,” Tom mumbled, as his blush deepened, this time from embarrassment.  “Sorry.”

Smiling, Ernest Cowan stood up.  “That is quite all right.  I encourage my students to ask questions, it helps to build confidence.  Now, let’s find you a quiet space so you can take your test.”

**

It was lunchtime when Tom finally finished taking his exam.  He felt tired and he hoped that he had answered enough questions correctly to put him into the mainstream ninth grade.  Louisa had packed him a sandwich and an apple so he followed the throng of students out into the quadrangle where he found a secluded table underneath a large pine tree.  Sitting down, he ate his sandwich whilst watching various groups of children eating, playing ball and generally fooling around.  He felt completely alone and his mind immediately turned to Dennis.  In the four months he had known Booker, they had hardly spent any time apart.  It suddenly occurred to Tom that Doug would be due for release in a couple of months.  It surprised him that he had not realized that it would be so soon.  He and Booker had just moved across the country to start a new life but in nine short weeks, Tom would have to go back and find his brother.  He wondered if Booker was aware that Doug was nearing the end of his sentence.  

He was so lost in his thoughts that he did not see an attractive blond-haired girl sit down opposite him.  He looked up with a start when she spoke.  “Hey, are you new here?  I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Tom stared back mutely, too taken aback to speak.  “Cat got your tongue?” the girl teased as she smiled at Tom pleasantly before sticking out her hand.  “I’m Becca, Becca Ellis and you are?”

Tom shook his head slightly before taking the girl’s hand in his and giving it a light shake.  “Tom Curtis,” he replied, remembering to use the name that he and Booker had chosen.

“How old are you?” she asked, her bright blue eyes never leaving Tom’s face.

“Um, fifteen,” Tom mumbled awkwardly.

Becca studied Tom for a moment before stating boldly, “You’re very pretty for a boy, the girls are gonna love you.  Do you have a girlfriend?”

Too dumbstruck by the girl’s forwardness to comprehend the question fully, Tom shook his head.  Becca smiled as she stood up.  “Excellent.  See you around Tom Curtis.”

As Tom watched her leave, a small smile graced his lips.  He had made his first school friend.

**

Reporting to Principal Cowen after lunch, Tom received the results of his entrance exam.  The news was not what Tom wanted to hear and he sat scowling as Ernest advised him of his schedule.  He was to start in the eighth grade _Make It Up!_ program which catered for those who had slight learning difficulties or had missed a lot of schooling.  Sensing that Tom had not taken the news well, Cowan dismissed him for the day to give him time to come to terms with his new curriculum.

It took Tom over an hour to walk home.  He dragged his feet, too depressed to take in the stunning scenery on either side of the roadway.  As he walked up the long, winding driveway, Louisa waved to him from the garden and quickly came bustling over.  “Tommy dear, why didn’t you get the school to ring me and tell me you were coming home early.  I could have picked you up.”

“It’s okay Miz Henderson, I wanted to walk,” Tom replied quietly.

“Silly boy,” Louisa scalded lovingly.  “It’s Aunty Lou remember?”

Tom nodded and managed a weak smile.  “Sorry Aunty Lou.  Do you mind if I go lie down, I’ve got a headache,” he lied.

Louisa reached out and stroked Tom’s pale face.  “Are you okay honey?  Do you want to talk about it?”

Shaking his head, Tom turned and walked the short distance to the barn.  As soon as he had closed the door, his eyes filled with tears.  He walked into the bedroom, undressed down to his boxers and crawled under the warm comforter.  As he sobbed into his pillow, he heard the front door open and close and moments later Booker had kicked off his boots and was lying beside him, a cold hand gently stroking his face.  “Oh baby,” he crooned softly, “Tell me what happened.”

Desperate for comfort, Tom laid his head on Dennis’ chest.  “I’m in the fucking eighth grade Booker,” he sobbed with shame.  “They put me in some fucking class for people with learning disabilities.  It’s bullshit!  I don’t want to go back.”

“Are you sure that’s what it is Tom?” Booker asked with care, certain that Tom had misunderstood.  

Tom thought about it for a moment, before replying, “Well, he said it was for people with _slight_ learning difficulties and those who’d missed a lot of school, but it’s the same thing.”

Booker laughed aloud and pulled Tom into his arms.  “No it’s not you idiot!  It just means you have some catching up to do.  There’s nothing to be ashamed of Tommy, they’re not labeling you, they’re trying to help you.”

Not liking Booker laughing at him, Tom pulled away, his face sulky.  Unwilling to let Tom brood, Dennis leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the nose.  Tom tried to refrain from laughing but when Booker did it again, he smiled broadly before pulling his lover into his arms and kissing him heatedly.  When they broke apart, Tom gave Booker a serious look.  “Are you sure they’re not calling me stupid?” he asked tentatively, wanting to believe his lover but not confident enough in his own abilities to do so.

“I promise,” Booker replied tenderly as he brushed Tom’s hair from his tired face.  “Trust me Tommy, if you study hard you’ll soon be ahead of your classmates.”

Tom smiled happily.  _Maybe Booker’s right,_ he thought as he lay in his lover’s arms.  _Maybe this time, everything will okay.  
_


	26. Orientation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Shaking his head, Tom turned and walked the short distance to the barn. As soon as he had closed the door, his eyes filled with tears. He walked into the bedroom, undressed down to his boxers and crawled under the warm comforter. As he sobbed into his pillow, he heard the front door open and close and moments later Booker had kicked off his boots and was lying beside him, a cold hand gently stroking his face. “Oh baby,” he crooned softly, “Tell me what happened.”_
> 
> _Desperate for comfort, Tom laid his head on Dennis’ chest. “I’m in the fucking eighth grade Booker,” he sobbed with shame. “They put me in some fucking class for people with learning disabilities. It’s bullshit! I don’t want to go back.”_
> 
> _“Are you sure that’s what it is Tom?” Booker asked with care, certain that Tom had misunderstood._
> 
> _Tom thought about it for a moment, before replying, “Well, he said it was for people with slight learning difficulties and those who’d missed a lot of school, but it’s the same thing.”_
> 
> _Booker laughed aloud and pulled Tom into his arms. “No it’s not you idiot! It just means you have some catching up to do. There’s nothing to be ashamed of Tommy, they’re not labeling you, they’re trying to help you.”_
> 
> _Not liking Booker laughing at him, Tom pulled away, his face sulky. Unwilling to let Tom brood, Dennis leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the nose. Tom tried to refrain from laughing but when Booker did it again, he smiled broadly before pulling his lover into his arms and kissing him heatedly. When they broke apart, Tom gave Booker a serious look. “Are you sure they’re not calling me stupid?” he asked tentatively, wanting to believe his lover but not confident enough in his own abilities to do so._
> 
> _“I promise,” Booker replied tenderly as he brushed Tom’s hair from his tired face. “Trust me Tommy, if you study hard you’ll soon be ahead of your classmates.”_
> 
> _Tom smiled happily. Maybe Booker’s right, he thought as he lay in his lover’s arms. Maybe this time, everything will okay._

[**Orientation**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=26) 

After several weeks attending Lillydale High, Tom finally began to settle in and he actually started to enjoy school.  Both teachers and students were slowly managing to chip away at the invisible defense shield he used to protect himself.  _His Make It Up!_ teacher Mr. Augustine Jones, had nothing but praise for his newest student.  He found Tom to be both intelligent and hardworking.  Jones reported to Principal Cowan that he was confident that if Tom kept working hard, he would be ready for mainstream schooling by the summer break.  The only subject Tom struggled with was Math.  Therefore, Mr. Jones made the decision to organize a tutor to give the teen extra lessons.  Tom was hesitant at first, hating the thought of another teenager trying to teach him.  That was until he realized his tutor would be Becca Ellis.  Although still shy around girls in general, Tom enjoyed Becca’s company.  She had introduced him to her friends and they were gradually beginning to accept him into their _group_.  The boys were initially wary; Tom’s good looks made him an instant competitor for the girls’ attentions.  But when they realized that he showed no interest in flirting with any of the young women, they soon began to act less threatened and more welcoming towards the new student.  For the first time in his life, Tom felt like he belonged.

Arriving home from school one afternoon, Tom immediately sat down at the small kitchen table and pulled out his books.  He had a geography test in the morning and he wanted to revise the capital cities of North America.  He really enjoyed the subject and he loved to imagine what it would be like to visit various countries around the world.  He had developed a fascination for Australia and he hoped that one-day, he and Booker would be able to visit the vast, beautiful continent together.  

Deep in thought, he did not notice that Dennis had entered the barn until a callused hand stroked his hair.  Looking up, Tom smiled and in reply, he received a soft, gentle kiss from his lover.  Not satisfied with the token display of affection, Tom pulled Dennis closer and kissed him deeply.  Booker moaned into Tom’s mouth and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend, he pulled him up out of the chair so he could feel Tom’s body pressed against him.  Groaning quietly Tom broke the kiss and gazed at Booker lovingly.  “I’m supposed to be studying,” he berated teasingly.  “You’re distracting me.”

“You started it,” Booker replied with a grin as his finger lightly traced around Tom’s jaw line.  “I just gave you a peck hello, you’re the one who decided to give me tongue.”

“Mmm,” Tom murmured softly, as Booker’s finger trailed across his full lips.  “I think maybe I’m due for a break.  Can you think of a way to help me relax?”

Dennis’ laughed quietly.  “I reckon I can think of something,” he replied, as his gaze traveled down Tom’s slender body.  Leading Tom by the hand and into the bedroom, Booker positioned his lover so his back was leaning against the wall.  Tom’s eyes immediately sparkled with arousal, he knew what Dennis was proposing and he could not be more delighted.  Standing up whilst Booker sucked him off meant he could easily fuck his boyfriend’s mouth.  Tom loved nothing more than to see Dennis on his knees, masturbating, whilst he sucked on Tom’s engorged cock.  His legs quivered with anticipation as Booker knelt down and slowly unzipped his jeans and let them drop to the floor.  Next, he pulled down Tom’s boxers.  Feeling Tom’s legs trembling beneath his hands, Booker looked up and smiled languidly, “Ready?” he asked, as he mischievously licked at his lips.

Nodding, Tom placed his hands on Dennis’ head and gently guided his lover’s mouth towards his semi erect cock.  He spent several minutes with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation of Booker’s tongue teasing his cock to life.  Once fully erect, he gazed down at his lover.  “I wanna watch you too,” he murmured softly as his hand stroked at Booker’s unruly hair.  

Dennis grinned as he quickly unzipped his jeans and released his aching cock.  “Slow or fast?” he murmured, as he darted his tongue out to lick at Tom’s weeping slit.

“Slow,” Tom moaned, “Make it last.”

Gently holding onto the base, Booker pressed his lips tenderly against Tom’s cock, kissing tenderly at the tip before wrapping his lips around the engorged head.  He sucked gently as he tugged slowly at his own growing erection.  He could hear Tom’s moans of pleasure as he sucked and licked, stopping occasionally to pepper kisses along the length of Tom’s erection as he moved his hand down so he could fondle Tom’s testicles.  Tom’s urgency became apparent when he began to thrust his hips forward as he sought the warmth of Booker’s mouth.  Opening his lips, Dennis took Tom completely.  Crying out in ecstasy, Tom grasped at Booker’s hair and pumped his cock deep into his lover’s accommodating mouth.  Booker immediately relaxed his throat and allowed Tom access as he tugged harder at his own throbbing erection.  Tom’s cries became louder as his orgasm neared.  “So… fuckin’… good,” he gasped huskily as his hips rocked back and forth.  “I’m close… oh fuck!  Oh Dennis… I’m gonna… I’m gonna… _JEEESUUUS!”_

Booker swallowed deeply as Tom semen hit the back of his throat.  Feeling his own climax about to hit, he worked his fist harder.  Without warning, Tom pushed him backwards onto the floor and grinning wickedly, he dropped to his knees and lowering his head, he took Dennis into his mouth.  Booker cried out in surprise as Tom sucked hard at his engorged head.  Within seconds, he spilled his seed into Tom’s hot mouth.  Tom slowly lapped and sucked at Booker’s softening cock before lifting his head and smiled broadly.  “Now that… that was fun,” he laughed as he took in Booker’s astonished expression.   

Dennis pulled Tom on top of him and gently nipped at his earlobe.  “I didn’t expect that,” he panted, his body trembling beneath Tom’s.

“That was the whole idea,” Tom murmured as his lips found Dennis’ and they kissed softly.  A loud rapping at the barn door pulled them apart.  “Shit!” Tom swore, as he rolled off Booker and quickly scrambling to his feet, pulling up his boxers and jeans. 

Booker laughed loudly.  “Don’t panic Tommy, it’s just Louisa calling us in for dinner.”

“I know but I don’t want to get caught,” Tom muttered as he hurried out of the bedroom and opened the door.  He spoke quickly to Louisa before closing the door.  When he re-entered the bedroom, Booker was buttoning up his jeans.  Tom reached out and attempted to kiss his lover but Dennis pushed past him and walked back out into the main living area.  Perplexed, Tom followed, catching him by the sleeve.  “What’s wrong with you?”

Jerking his arm away, Booker sat down and pulled on his boots.  “Nothing,” he replied moodily.

“Yeah there is,” Tom replied softly as he stood over his lover.  “Tell me.”

Sighing heavily, Booker lifted his head.  “Why don’t you want anyone to know about us?” he asked, his gaze penetrating deep into Tom’s eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” Tom blurted out, “Yeah right, let’s tell a couple of eighty year olds that their two underage lodgers are in a sexual relationship.”

“ _Homo_ sexual relationship,” Dennis murmured as his expression saddened.  “That’s the problem with you isn’t it?  You can’t admit you’re gay.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tom snapped, “I’m not fucking gay!”

Booker let out a scornful laugh.  “You’re fucking joking right?  You suck my cock and five seconds later you tell me you’re not gay?  So okay, maybe you’re bi but either way you need to fucking own up to it.  I don’t give a flying fuck if Louisa and Henry find out about us, we’re not doing anything wrong.”

Tom did not know what to say.  He had not really thought about how being with Booker defined his sexuality.  Before he met Dennis, he certainly had not been attracted to boys.  He had looked at girls and thought they were pretty but because he did not interact with others his age, he had never really had a schoolboy crush before.  His father’s abuse had essentially warped his view on sex and it had never been something he had thought too much about before.  That was until he met Dennis.  Dennis had been his first kiss, his first sexual encounter outside of rape and prostitution.  It had not really occurred to him that they were actually in a gay relationship.  

Sitting down, he leaned forward and placed his hands on Dennis’ thighs.  “You’re right,” he murmured apologetically, “That was stupid of me to say that.  I don’t know _what_ I am but I do know I love you.  I just don’t want to upset Louisa and Henry, they might not understand.”

Pouting softly, Booker pulled Tom to his chest.  “I don’t care if they understand or not, I’m tired of living a lie.  I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want and not have to worry that the door is locked.”

Tom thought about it for a moment.  “Okay,” he replied slowly, “If you want to tell them, we tell them.”

**

Sitting in the warm farmhouse kitchen, Henry and Booker were deep in conversation about fixing a broken fence.  Tom picked nervously at his food, dreading the moment when the discussion would end and Dennis would take the opportunity to divulge their secret. 

“Not hungry sweetheart?” Louisa addressed Tom, pulling him from his contemplations.  

Before Tom could answer, Booker interrupted.  “Um, I think Tom’s a little worried about something we have to tell you.”

“Nothing to worry about boy,” Henry replied in his slow, kind way.  “Best not to keep secrets.”

Now that Booker had brought up the issue, he instantly began to regret it.  He had no idea how to tell the elderly couple that he and Tom pleasured each other sexually.  A pink blush heated his face as he tried to find the right words to say.  He turned to Tom for help but his lover appeared equally tongue-tied.

“Spit it out lad,” Henry pressed impatiently, “We ain't got all night.”

Sensing that Booker was unable to say what needed to be said, Tom took a deep breath and blurted out their secret.  “We’re gay!” he exclaimed in a loud voice.   Booker’s mouth fell open in surprise at the ferocity of Tom’s statement.

A loud silence followed before Louisa answered in a somewhat amused voice, “Well yes darling, we know.”

“You know?” Booker uttered in surprise.  “How could you know?”

Without replying, Louisa stood up and busied herself clearing the table.  As it slowly dawned on Booker, his face flushed a deep red.  “Jesus Christ, you heard us,” he whispered as he turned to Tom with a look of horror.

“Now, now lad.  Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Henry admonished quietly as he pulled out his pipe and began to pack it with his sweet smelling tobacco.  He took several minutes before he continued.  “Lou an' I try not to judge, isn’t that right Mother?”

Turning from the sink, Louisa pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear with a wet hand.  “That’s right.  You can’t help who you fall in love with, well that’s my opinion on the subject anyway.  So don’t you boys worry about it, just… well… you are being _safe_ aren’t you?”

“Oh God,” Tom whispered as he ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Um, we don’t… we haven’t… not yet,” Booker spluttered out in reply.

“Well just make sure you are when you do,” Louisa instructed, winking at her husband.  “Now get along home before you both die of embarrassment."

Tom and Dennis did not need telling twice.  Without looking up, they hurried back to the sanctuary of their own home.

 

 


	27. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Sensing that Booker was unable to say what needed to be said, Tom took a deep breath and blurted out their secret.  “We’re gay!” he exclaimed in a loud voice.   Booker’s mouth fell open in surprise at the ferocity of Tom’s statement._
> 
> _A loud silence followed before Louisa answered in a somewhat amused voice, “Well yes darling, we know.”_
> 
> _“You know?” Booker uttered in surprise.  “How could you know?”_
> 
> _Without replying, Louisa stood up and busied herself clearing the table.  As it slowly dawned on Booker, his face flushed a deep red.  “Jesus Christ, you heard us,” he whispered as he turned to Tom with a look of horror._
> 
> _“Now, now lad.  Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain,” Henry admonished quietly as he pulled out his pipe and began to pack it with his sweet smelling tobacco.  He took several minutes before he continued.  “Lou and I try not to judge, isn’t that right Mother?”_
> 
> _Turning from the sink, Louisa pushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear with a wet hand.  “That’s right.  You can’t help who you fall in love with, well that’s my opinion on the subject anyway.  So don’t you boys worry about it, just… well… you are being safe aren’t you?”_
> 
> _“Oh God,” Tom whispered as he ducked his head in embarrassment._
> 
> _“Um, we don’t… we haven’t… not yet,” Booker spluttered out in reply._
> 
> _“Well just make sure you are when you do,” Louisa instructed, winking at her husband.  “Now get along home before you both die of embarrassment."_
> 
> _Tom and Dennis did not need telling twice.  Without looking up, they hurried back to the sanctuary of their own home._   
> 

[**Confessions**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=27) 

Lying in bed the following morning, Tom could hear Booker taking a shower.  Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was still early.  Closing his eyes, he thought about the day ahead of him and he wondered if he should say something to Booker.  He felt stupid bringing it up, it was only another day and yet he desperately wanted to share it with his lover.  He was beginning to feel that now might finally be the right time and he wanted to do it before he lost his nerve.  Hearing the faucets turn off, he waited patiently for Dennis to enter the bedroom.  Enthralled, he watched his lover dress.  Booker’s body had transformed dramatically after only a short time.  His upper body was well toned and muscular from all the hard, physical work he endured day after day.  Tom eyed him up and down, waiting for his lover to become aware of his appreciative stare.  When Booker finally turned around, he grinned when he saw Tom’s expression.  “Pervert,” he laughed, “I wasn’t aware I was the floor show.”

“Come here,” Tom instructed sleepily, as he held out his arms, “I wanna have some fun.”

Booker shook his head, “Sorry Tommy, not this morning.  I’ve got loads to do and Henry’s expecting me.”

“Henry won’t care if you’re late,” Tom murmured, “C’mon, I know you wanna.”

“I said I can’t,” Dennis snapped irritably as he pulled on his boots.  “One of us has responsibilities.”

Tom glared back angrily.  “Meaning I don’t?  I’ve got school and—”

“Like that’s so fucking hard,” Booker interrupted abruptly.  “I’m tired and I’m sore and I’ve got to spend the day outside fixing a fence Tom.  I think that’s a little more demanding than sitting in a heated classroom don’t you?”

Tears filled Tom’s eyes.  “Why are you being so mean?  I only wanted to make you happy.  There’s something I want to tell you, can’t you wait—”

“Jesus Tommy, I said no okay?  We can talk tonight, I’ve got to go,” Booker replied hurriedly and picking up his jacket, he left the room.

Tears slowly spilled from Tom’s eyes as the front door opened and slammed shut.  He pulled Booker’s pillow into his arms and hugged it close, gaining comfort from the softness of the inanimate object.  He had wanted today to be special and all he had managed to do was make Booker angry.  Closing his eyes, he sobbed silently until he eventually fell asleep.

**

Augustine Jones noticed Tom’s sullen mood and considered taking the boy on one side to try to find out what was bothering him.  During class, he monitored the young teen closely but quickly concluded that there was no cause for alarm, it appeared that Tom was just having a bad day.  He wondered if Tom felt nervous about his first tutoring lesson, which Becca had scheduled for after school that day.  Jones was well aware that it had taken time for his newest student to feel comfortable with his peers and a one on one lesson might be a daunting prospect for a boy who appeared to have spent much of his life without friends.  Augustine’s curiosity about Tom had peaked early and he had asked the principal about Tom’s home life.  But Cowan had mysteriously remained tight lipped, citing only that Tom and Dennis had endured a difficult life but were now settled with the Hendersons.  Jones was certain that the principal was keeping something from him but he did not feel in a position to challenge his superior.  Not that it mattered.  Jones’ directive had always been to give all his students the best support he could offer, regardless of their behavior or background.

When the final bell sounded, Augustine called Tom over to his desk.  “Are you looking forward to Rebecca tutoring you Tom?” he asked conversationally, attempting to gauge Tom’s level of nerves so he could offer the appropriate amount of reassurance.

Tom shrugged noncommittally.  “I guess,” he replied.

Jones smiled with encouragement.  “You’ll do great.  Rebecca’s a wonderful student and she has the gift of being able to relay information in easy to understand terms.  She’s very patient, so ask questions if you have trouble comprehending something.  Okay?”

Tom nodded and gave his teacher a lopsided smile.  “No probs Mr. Jones, I’ll do my best.”

“Good boy,” Jones replied, “I look forward to hearing about it tomorrow.”

Picking up his bag, Tom left the classroom and walked out into the cold afternoon air.  He saw Becca sitting at a table in the sheltered outdoor lunch area.  He smiled to himself as he wandered over to join her.

“Hey Tommy!” Becca greeted in a friendly tone.  “Do you want to stay outside or is it too cold?”

“It’s fine,” Tom answered as he threw his bag on the table and sat down.  “Unless it’s too cold for you.”

Becca pulled out her books.  “Nah, I like the cold, it helps to clear the mind.”

Sitting next to Tom, Becca moved in close.  “If it gets too cold we can keep each other warm,” she teased, laughing lightly as Tom’s face flushed pink.  “So Tommy, I’m going to teach you everything a fifteen year old needs to know about math.”

Turning to look at his friend, Tom replied quietly, “ _Sixteen_ year old.  Today’s my birthday.”

Becca’s eyes sparkled.  “Wow, sweet sixteen!  Happy birthday Tommy,” she exclaimed excitedly and before Tom knew what was happening, she leaned forward and kissed him.

For a fraction of a moment, Tom responded to the kiss before quickly pulling away and averting his eyes.  Becca gave him a scrutinizing look as she tried to figure out Tom’s reluctance.  “Did I do something wrong?” she asked quietly.  “I thought you liked me.”

Tom rubbed his face with his palms before giving his friend a half smile.  “I do like you,” he mumbled, “It’s just… Becca, I have a—”

“Girlfriend?” Becca asked in confusion.  “Because I thought you said you didn’t have one.”

“I don’t,” Tom replied before taking a deep breath.  “Becca, I have a _boy_ friend.”

Rebecca’s eyes opened wide with surprise.  “Oh my God!  _Really?_   I _knew_ you were too pretty!”  Seeing Tom’s worried expression she laughed loudly.  “Well, that sucks for me I guess, but don’t worry Tommy, I don’t care whether you’re gay or straight, I like _you_.  And your secret’s safe with me, okay?”

“You really don’t care?” Tom asked shyly, before adding, “And I really like you too, you know, as a friend.”

“Well you kinda ruined my plans for the big dance but hey, I’m sure I’ll find someone to go with,” Becca replied good-naturedly.  “Or maybe we could still go together, just as friends.  Anyway, now there are no pent up sexual feelings, I can devote my time teaching you the wonderful magic of mathematics.”

Tom smiled gratefully.  “Thanks Becca, I’m really glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you too Tommy,” Rebecca replied softly, “Now stop procrastinating and let’s get started.”

As Rebecca started to explain an algebra equation in their workbook, Tom’s mind started to wander.  For the second time in two days, he had openly admitted that he was in love with another male.  Now that it was out in the open, he felt liberated and he knew that he would be able to take the next step and show Booker how much he loved him.

**

Arriving home, Tom was delighted to see Booker sitting at the table.  Hanging up his jacket, he rushed across the room.  “I’m so glad you’re home early, I’ve got something to tell you,” he spluttered excitedly.

Booker lifted his head from his hands and gave Tom a cold stare.  “Is that right?” he asked frostily.  “I don’t suppose it has anything to do with you cheating on me does it?”

Tom stopped dead in his tracks.  “ _What?”_ he asked in confusion.  “I don’t know what you’re—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me you little bastard!” Dennis screamed, standing up so abruptly that he toppled over his chair.  “I fucking _saw_ you kissing that girl so don’t even try and deny it.”

Staring at Booker in shock, Tom’s mood suddenly turned angry.  “You were _spying_ on me?  What gives you the fucking right to sneak around behind my back, watching what I’m doing?”

“So you don’t deny it then?” Dennis spat back angrily.  “And I wasn’t spying on you!  I came to the school so I could walk you home ‘cause I felt bad about this morning.  God Tommy, I fucking _hate_ you for this.  The minute some pretty girl throws herself at you, you can’t _wait_ to see what it’s like on the other side.  How could you do this to me?  After everything I’ve done, I can’t believe you would betray me.”

“I haven’t done _anything!”_ Tom cried out in anguish.  “I didn’t kiss her, she kissed _me!_   How can you not trust me enough to know that I would _never_ cheat on you!”

“So what?  She just decided to kiss you right there when you were studying?” Booker asked disbelievingly as he paced around the room in agitation.  “Come on Tom, at least give me a convincing lie.”

Tears of anger glinted in Tom’s eyes and unable to control his emotions, he turned and violently swiped several knickknacks from the shelf beside him.  “Today’s my fucking _birthday_ you asshole!” he screamed, “I told Becca I was sixteen and before I knew what was happening, _she_ was kissing _me_.  I pulled away, she asked why and I told her.  I fucking _told her!_   And now the whole fucking school’s gonna know I’m gay and you hate me and all I wanted this morning was to tell you… to tell you… oh _FUCK!”_

Tom buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.  He felt Booker’s strong arms pulling him into a tight embrace and he did not fight it.  Gentle hands stroked at his hair as Dennis whispered in his ear.  “Oh Tommy, I’m sorry.   Shh baby please, please forgive me.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Slowly, Tom’s hiccuping sobs abated and he gently pulled away from Booker’s hold.  Swiping his sleeve across his teary eyes, he stared at Booker somberly.  “You really thought I would do that to you?”

“I dunno,” Booker replied quietly.  “Maybe I did.”

Tom turned away, his eyes dead.  “You don’t know me at all,” he whispered as he opened the door and walked out.

 


	28. At Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tears of anger glinted in Tom’s eyes and unable to control his emotions, he turned and violently swiped several knickknacks from the shelf beside him.  “Today’s my fucking birthday you asshole!” he screamed, “I told Becca I was sixteen and before I knew what was happening, she was kissing me.  I pulled away, she asked why and I told her.  I fucking told her!  And now the whole fucking school’s gonna know I’m a faggot and you hate me and all I wanted this morning was to tell you… to tell you… oh FUCK!”_
> 
> _Tom buried his face in his hands and sobbed uncontrollably.  He felt Booker’s strong arms pulling him into a tight embrace and he did not fight it.  Gentle hands stroked at his hair as Dennis whispered in his ear.  “Oh Tommy, I’m sorry.   Shh baby please, please forgive me.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”_
> 
> _Slowly, Tom’s hiccuping sobs abated and he gently pulled away from Booker’s hold.  Swiping his sleeve across his teary eyes, he stared at Booker somberly.  “You really thought I would do that to you?”_
> 
> _“I dunno,” Booker replied quietly.  “Maybe I did.”_
> 
> _Tom turned away, his eyes dead.  “You don’t know me at all,” he whispered as he opened the door and walked out into the cold, dark night.  
> _

[**At Last**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=28) 

Having walked blindly for miles, Tom stopped when he realized that darkness had fallen.  He had forgotten to put on his coat and he shivered with cold.  He had no idea where he was or how long he had been walking.  A light rain began to fall and feeling even more miserable, he turned and retraced his steps.  He had traveled further than he thought and by the time he saw the lights of the farmhouse, he was soaked to the skin and trembling violently.   For a brief moment he stood outside the barn, too weary to face Booker and his accusations.  But knowing that he could not stand outside forever, he opened the door and walked in.

Booker sat hunched at the table, with his head in his hands.  Louisa sat next to him, her hand gently rubbing his back.  Both looked up when they heard the sound of the door.  Crying out, Louisa stood up and ran over to Tom, pulling him into her arms.  “Oh my darling boy, don’t you _ever_ run off like that again, we’ve been worried sick for hours.  Henry’s out in the truck with Jonathan looking for you!  Oh come in by the fire, you’re soaked through, you’re going to get sick if you don’t get out of those wet clothes.”

“I’m fine Aunty Lou, honest,” Tom mumbled, beginning to feel guilty at the trouble he had caused.  He allowed Louisa to lead him over to the fire where she fussed around him like a mother hen.  Tom stole a glance at Booker, whose head had dropped back into his hands.  Tom saw that his lover’s body was shaking and he knew Dennis was crying.  He felt ashamed at having put Booker through so much worry.  

As he was about to speak, Louisa interrupted him as she hurried over to the window and pulled back the curtain.  “That’s Henry back with Jon, I’d better let them know that you’re home.”  Turning, she stared at the two boys.  “Are you both all right or do you need me to come back?”

Booker remained silent so Tom replied somewhat sheepishly, “We’ll be okay.  Sorry for causing so much trouble.”

Louisa smiled lovingly at Tom.  “Make it right,” she murmured, nodding her head towards Dennis.  “He’s been in a right state since you went missing.”

Tom nodded, his feeling of guilt intensifying.  He thanked Louisa and waited until she had left before turning his attention to Booker.  His heart ached at the sight of his lover sobbing silently as his body quivered with emotion.  Walking over, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to Dennis.  “Hey,” he murmured softly as he attempted to pull Booker’s hands from his face.  “I’m sorry, okay?”

Dennis looked up, his expression full of anguish as he continued to sob.  “I thought… you’d… left… me,” he hiccuped, as his eyes searched Tom’s face.  “I was… so… fucking… stupid—”

“Shh,” Tom soothed as his thumb gently wiped the tears from Booker’s distraught face.  “Don’t you remember, I promised you ages ago that I’d never leave without telling you first.”

Dennis nodded as he remembered their conversation after Tom had sought comfort from alcohol and drugs.  Sniffing, he rubbed at his eyes with his hands.  “You’re wet, you should take a shower and warm up.”

Understanding that Booker needed time to pull himself together, Tom stood up and gently stroked Dennis’ hair.  “I’ll be back soon okay?”

“Okay,” Booker muttered and he managed a half smile.  He waited until Tom had gone into the bathroom before standing up and walking over to the window.  Pulling back the curtain he stared out into the darkness and wondered if Tom would ever be able to forgive him.  

**

Lying naked under the covers, Booker felt his heart skip a beat as he watched Tom emerge from the bathroom twenty minutes later, a towel wrapped tightly around his narrow waist and his damp hair pushed back from his face.  He smiled nervously, unsure how Tom would behave after their argument.  He sighed with relief when his lover smiled back.  Holding out his hand, he beckoned Tom to him.  He watched as Tom removed his towel and climbed in beside him before murmuring, “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?  I don’t have anything to give you.”

Tom lay silent for a moment before gazing deep into Booker’s eyes.  “Yeah you do,” he whispered as his trembling finger lightly played over Dennis’ lips.  “I want you to make love to me.”

Dennis stared at his lover in wonder.  “Tommy,” he whispered, his voice wavering slightly as tears glistened in his eyes.  “Oh _Tommy!”_

Tom smiled nervously at his lover’s reaction.  His heart hammered in his chest but he knew he was ready.  “Tell me you love me,” he whispered against Booker’s mouth.

“Oh _God_ I love you,” Booker replied as he sucked at Tom’s full lower lip.  “I love you so much it hurts.”

“Show me,” Tom murmured as he threw his head back so Booker could suck at his throat.  “I wanna feel you inside me.”

Dennis moaned loudly at Tom’s words.  Rolling over, he yanked open his bedside drawer and pulled out a box of condoms and a tube of lubrication.  His fingers trembled so violently that he spilled the condoms out onto the bed.  Tom laughed lightly as he watched Booker pick one up and swipe the rest impatiently onto the floor.  Reaching down, Tom’s fingers stroked up and down Booker’s cock, gently teasing him to full arousal.  Stilling Tom’s hand, Booker sat up and ripped open the condom package.  Taking out the rubber, he carefully unrolled it onto his erection.  Tom gazed with wide eyes and his breathing became labored.  Moving down the bed, Booker knelt between Tom’s bent knees.  Smiling down lovingly, he grabbed a pillow.  “Lift up,” he instructed as he placed the cushion under Tom’s hips.  Picking up the lube, he opened the tube and coated first his cock and then his index finger before smearing a blob onto Tom’s hole.  Leaning forward, he kissed Tom tenderly.  “I’m gonna get you ready, okay?”  Tom nodded and as he felt Booker’s finger intimately entering into his tight hole, he sucked in his breath.  Booker paused as he stared down at Tom with concern.  “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered.  

Tom shook his head.  “No, keep going.”

Booker gently pushed past the tight ring of muscle before slowly withdrawing his finger.  He repeated the process several times, his eyes never leaving Tom’s as they stared at each other intensely.  Removing his finger completely, Booker’s breathing intensified at the sight of Tom lying with his legs spread waiting for him to continue.  He closed his eyes briefly, as if imprinting the vision deep into his memory before opening them again and gazing adoringly at his lover.  “Are you ready?” he asked, his voice hitching slightly in his throat.

“I’m ready,” Tom murmured as his chest rose and fell rapidly with his growing arousal.

Booker guided the tip of his cock to Tom’s opening and slowly he pushed inside.  Tom gasped when he felt Booker entering his body and callused hands grasp his waist.  

Slowly, Dennis rocked his hips back and forth, as Tom’s legs wrapped tightly around him and his fingernails bit deep into the flesh of his upper arms.  “Tell me when you feel it,” Booker puffed as he gradually increased his pace.

“There!” Tom cried, as Booker’s cock hit his prostate.  “Oh fuck Dennis… oh fuck!”

Determined not to rush his lovemaking, Booker gently lifted Tom’s hips so he could maintain his angle.  Tom’s eyes stared back wildly as Booker pushed deep into his body, every thrust causing Tom to cry out, “Aah… aah… aah… oh fuck… oh fuck… oh fuck”

Looking down, Booker could see that Tom’s cock was weeping heavily with pre-cum.  It excited him knowing that his cock thrusting in and out of Tom’s body was the cause of his lover’s arousal.  “Do you want me to touch you baby?” he panted, as he pushed his cock deep inside Tom.

“Yes… yes…yes…,” Tom pleaded, as his nails dug deep into the tender flesh of Booker’s arms. 

Placing his left hand on the mattress for support, Booker gently took Tom’s throbbing cock into his right hand.  At the contact, Tom cried out and his hips lifted off the pillow.  “Oh _fuck!_   Dennis… I can’t hold on… I’m gonna come… I’m gonna come…”

As he tugged gently at Tom’s erection, Booker’s eyes blazed with desire as he quickened his pace.  “Come for me baby,” he hissed through clenched teeth as he trust deep into Tom’s tight hole.

“Dennis… Dennis… _AAAH!”_ Tom finally screamed as his orgasm hit hard and he ejaculated forcefully over his stomach and covered Booker’s fingers in his sticky fluid.

“FUCK YEAH!” Booker yelled excitedly, as he began to pound forcefully into Tom’s narrow body.  “Tommy… Tommy… _TOMMEEE!”_   He shuddered violently as he reached his climax, his semen trapping inside the condom.  Exhausted, he collapsed heavily onto his lover’s body, his breath catching in his throat.  “Oh God,” he whispered in Tom’s ear.  “That was fucking amazing!”  When Tom did not answer, Booker lifted his head and saw that tears were trickling down Tom’s cheeks.  “Oh Tommy!” he murmured as he tenderly wiped his lover’s tears from his eyes.  “Don’t cry.”

Tom’s voice faltered as a sob caught in his throat.  “I _never_ … thought… it could feel… so good,” he wept.  “I love you so much.”

Tears filled Booker’s eyes and carefully rolling onto the mattress, he pulled Tom into his arms.  “I love you too baby,” he crooned as he held his lover close.  “Now and forever remember?”

“Now and forever,” Tom repeated as his tears slowed and his eyes grew heavy.  “Now… and… _forever_.”

“Happy sweet sixteen beautiful,” Booker whispered, as he tenderly kissed Tom’s forehead.  

“Mmm,” Tom murmured as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep, contented slumber.

 


	29. Losing Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Tom’s voice faltered as a sob caught in his throat.  “I never… thought… it could feel… so good,” he wept.  “I love you so much.”_
> 
> _Tears filled Booker’s eyes and carefully rolling onto the mattress, he pulled Tom into his arms.  “I love you too baby,” he crooned as he held his lover close.  “Now and forever remember?”_
> 
> _“Now and forever,” Tom repeated as his tears slowed and his eyes grew heavy.  “Now… and… forever.”_
> 
> _“Happy sweet sixteen beautiful,” Booker whispered, as he tenderly kissed Tom’s forehead._
> 
> _“Mmm,” Tom murmured as his eyes closed and he fell into a deep, contented slumber._

[**Losing Control**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=29) 

It took until the middle of April for the weather to show signs that it was now spring.  The temperatures gradually became warmer and the long, cold winter became a distant memory.  There was plenty of work for Booker on the farm and he became adept at fixing fences and servicing farm equipment, all under the watchful eye of the elderly but very active Henry Henderson.  He was happily content with his life.  He enjoyed the outdoor existence of clean country air after so many years living in a noisy, car-fumed city.  He took immense pride in his work and he secretly enjoyed the praise he received from his elderly mentor.

Unfortunately, Tom’s life had taken a turn for the worse.  Since his birthday, he had faced some difficult times at school.  Becca had kept his secret to herself for several weeks but had eventually revealed the truth about his sexuality to her new boyfriend, Jarrod.  Although swearing him to secrecy, the news soon spread like wildfire and Tom received the hurtful and homophobic nickname of _Take-it-up-the-ass_ Tommy.  Once the teasing started, Tom completely withdrew from his peers and his schoolwork quickly began to suffer.  He again found himself an outcast, the kid at school with whom no one could relate.  Augustine Jones and Ernest Cowan did their best to shield him from the bullying and although they consistently punished the perpetrators, Tom ultimately had to fight his battles alone.  

Booker had noticed an immediate change in Tom’s demeanor.  His lover had become reserved, moody, and less sexually available.   It had taken several weeks of gentle coaxing before Tom had finally revealed to Dennis what was happening at school.  Booker had wanted to confront the bullies, furious that his beloved had become a target of homophobic abuse.  But Tom had remained resolute.  He did not want Dennis intervening on his behalf for fear of being conceived as weak and therefore, even more vulnerable and open to ridicule.  He had to deal with the taunts in his own way, no matter how difficult it was.

Tom’s problems at school were not the only reason the teen felt so lost and alone.  Doug’s release was imminent and Tom had no idea how to ask Booker to give up his idyllic farm life and follow him back west so he could once again be with his sibling.  He felt torn between the two men he loved most in the world, his lover and his brother.  When he thought about coming face to face with his father, the man who for four years, beat and raped him almost on a daily basis, he felt sick to his stomach.  His world was once again crashing in around him and he had no control over it.  He was terrified that Booker would choose the Hendersons over him and he was not sure he could survive without his lover by his side.

Several weeks after the abuse had begun, Tom sat cross-legged on the table underneath his favorite pine tree, staring sullenly at groups of children eating lunch together.  He wondered why his life always seemed to turn to shit.  For a short period, his school life had been perfect.  Now, it was again the isolating hellhole he had come to expect.  He knew he was failing most of his classes but he could not find the energy or resolve to turn things around.  Principal Cowan had scheduled a meeting with Henry and Louisa to discuss the bullying and Tom’s subsequent declining grades.  It was Tom’s secret hope that the Hendersons would think of him as a lost cause and allow him to leave school.

So lost in his contemplations, Tom did not see Becca until she was standing in front of him.  His frown turned into a scowl and swinging his legs around, he jumped from the table and started to walk away.  Becca caught him by the sleeve, her face etched with sadness.  “Tommy wait!” 

Turning abruptly to confront his former friend, Tom balled his hands into fists.  “Fuck _OFF!”_ he yelled at her, his eyes blazing with fury.  “I never want to speak to you again!”

“Tommy I’m sorry,” Becca sobbed as she clutched at his arm.  “I was so stupid.  I thought I could trust Jarrod, I never thought he would tell everyone!”

Tom looked at her in disbelief as he fought to keep his angry tears at bay.  “I thought you were my friend!” he shouted, “How could you do this to me?”

Their yelling caught the attention of other teenagers in the playground and soon several students had formed a circle around Tom and Becca, all eager to see what the commotion was about. 

“Tommy please!” Becca pleaded, “I’m sorry, I’m sooo sorry!”

Tom pushed her away roughly.  “I don’t give a _fuck_ that you’re sorry, you’ve made my life hell you stupid little bitch!”

As he started to turn away, Tom found himself spun back around and a fist slammed painfully into his jaw.  The force knocked him to the ground and he sat gazing up at the angry face of Jarrod Harris, Becca’s boyfriend.  “ _No one_ calls my girl a bitch, faggot,” Jarrod sneered, as his classmates cheered him on.  “Now why don’t you go home and let your _boyfriend_ fuck you up the ass.”

Confident that he had shown Tom who was the better man, Jarrod turned away and clenching his fists, he raised his arms in a winner’s salute.  So caught up in his own victory Jarrod did not see Tom clambering to his feet behind him.  By the time someone yelled, “ _Look out!”_ Tom had already tackled him to the ground.  Straddling his dazed victim, Tom repeatedly slammed his fists into Jarrod’s surprised face.  Blood poured from the teenager’s nose and a large cut opened up above his eye.  Tom was vaguely aware of screaming but he remained so focused on smashing the face of his tormentor that he did not know where it was coming from.  Suddenly, he found himself dragged violently backwards and two strong arms wrapped around him and trapped his arms against his body, rendering him defenseless.  He started to scream and curse, throwing his head backwards in an effort to head butt the person holding him.  Dozens of pairs of wide, frightened eyes watched on as Tom fought to get free, his voice becoming more hysterical as each minute passed, “GET OFF ME YOU MOTHERFUCKER!  GET THE FUCK _OFF ME!”_

Eventually Tom’s struggling ceased as exhaustion overwhelmed him.  As his rage slowly diminished, he heard sirens in the distance.  In a daze, he looked around and saw Jarrod lying bloodied on the ground with several teachers leaning over him.  Many students were crying and others looked on in shock and bewilderment.  The arms holding him remained firm and Tom had no choice but to stand still with his head hanging forward.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw flashing lights as an ambulance and a police car drove into the school.  Two paramedics quickly alighted and wheeled a stretcher over to Jarrod.  As the police officers approached, Tom slowly realized that he was about to be detained.  

“We’ll take it from here,” the larger of the two officers told Tom’s captor.  Strong arms wrestled him to the ground and a knee in his back held him firm as a large hand pushed his face down into the grass.  He cried out as the officer wrenched his arms painfully behind his back and tightly handcuffed his wrists.  Pulled unceremoniously to his feet, Tom grunted as both officers held him firm.  “Are we going to have any trouble?” the smaller officer asked in a low menacing voice.

Tom shook his head, too stunned to speak.  The officers led him past Jarrod, who was lying on the stretcher with an IV in his arm.  It was then that he found his voice, “Will he be okay?” he whispered, trying to seek out Becca in the crowd of pale, shocked faces.

“You’d better hope so,” the officer replied in a flat voice.  “If not, you’re going to be in a whole lot of trouble.”

**

Sitting in a police cell with his head in his hands, Tom knew he had messed up big time.  At best, he might get off with community service, at worst, a judge might decide he needed a more severe punishment, which would likely mean juvenile detention; the irony of which was not lost on Tom.  His brother was due for release within weeks and now there was a very good chance that he would take Doug’s place within the system.  Tom’s other fear was that the police would realize he was a runaway.  The thought of the authorities returning him to his father was almost too much to bear.  He doubted the Hendersons would want him back, not now that he had shown them what a screw up he really was.  Not only had he messed up his own chances of a new life, he had also taken that opportunity away from Booker.  

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the corridor and Tom lifted his head to see Booker running towards his cell. Rushing to the bars, he held out his arms and Dennis grabbed him through the narrow railings, pulling him against the cold, hard barrier. “Oh God Tommy!” Booker cried, “What the hell happened?”

At the anguish in his lover’s voice, Tom burst into tears. Booker tried his best to comfort him through the steel bars but he could only make minimal contact. Eventually, he pulled away and spoke to the police officer who was standing several feet away, observing the reunion in silence. “Can you let me in so I can talk to him?” Dennis pleaded. “He’s only sixteen. Please, I need to be with him.”

The officer hesitated for a moment before nodding.  Moving forward, he unlocked the cell and held open the door.  Booker rushed through and pulled Tom into his arms.  “Shh, baby,” he whispered, desperately trying to calm Tom’s hysterics.  “It’s okay, I’m here now.”

Tom jerked away and started pacing frantically around the tiny cell, tearing at his hair.  “It’s _not_ okay!  I lost it Booker, I could have fucking killed him!  Is he all right?  No-one will tell me if he’s all right!”

“He’s okay,” Dennis answered quietly, aware that the officer outside was listening.  “You broke his nose and fractured his cheekbone.  Just don’t say anything more okay?”

“Why the hell not?” Tom snapped angrily, “They’re gonna find out everything anyway!  It’s over.  I fucked everything up and now it’s over!”

Dennis tried to allay Tom’s fears.  “It’s not over.  We can work it out Tommy, I promise.”

Tom stopped pacing and lifted a tear stained face to stare at his lover.  “How?” he whispered.

Booker did not have an answer but he did not let Tom know that.  “We’ll find a way baby,” he murmured softly, “Just let me do the worrying okay?”

Tom wanted to believe Dennis but deep in his heart he knew this time, his lover would not be able to make everything right.  



	30. For the Love of Tom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: The sound of hurried footsteps echoed along the corridor and Tom lifted head to see Booker running towards his cell.  Rushing to the bars, Tom held out his arms and Dennis grabbed him through the narrow railings, pulling him against the cold, hard barrier.   “Oh God Tommy!” Booker cried, “What the hell happened?”_
> 
> _At the anguish in his lover’s voice, Tom burst into tears.  Booker tried his best to comfort Tom through the steel bars but he could only make minimal contact.  Eventually, he pulled away and spoke to the police officer who was standing several feet away, observing the reunion in silence.  “Can you let me in so I can talk to him?” Dennis pleaded.  “He’s only sixteen.  Please, I need to be with him.”_
> 
> _The officer hesitated for a moment before nodding.  Moving forward, he unlocked the cell and held open the door.  Booker rushed through and pulled Tom into his arms.  “Ssh, baby,” he whispered, desperately trying to calm Tom’s hysterics.  “It’s okay, I’m here now.”_
> 
> _Tom jerked away and started pacing frantically around the tiny cell, tearing at his hair.  “It’s not okay!  I lost it Booker, I could have fucking killed him!  Is he all right?  No-one will tell me if he’s all right!”_
> 
> _“He’s okay,” Dennis answered quietly, aware that the officer outside was listening.  “You broke his nose and fractured his cheekbone.  Just don’t say anything more okay?”_
> 
> _“Why the hell not?” Tom snapped angrily, “They’re gonna find out everything anyway!  It’s over.  I fucked everything up and now it’s over!”_
> 
> _Dennis tried to allay Tom’s fears.  “It’s not over.  We can work it out Tommy, I promise.”_
> 
> _Tom stopped pacing and lifted a tear stained face to stare at his lover.  “How?” he whispered._
> 
> _Booker did not have an answer but he did not let Tom know that.  “We’ll find a way baby,” he murmured softly, “Just let me do the worrying okay?”_
> 
> _Tom wanted to believe Dennis but deep in his heart he knew this time, his lover would not be able to make everything right._

[**For the Love of Tom**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=30) 

Several hours after Booker had left the police station, Tom lay on the hard wooden bench in his cell with his arm thrown over his face.  He had fallen into a deep, mind numbing depression and he wanted nothing more than to fall asleep and never wake up.  As he lay wondering what his fate would be, he once again heard footsteps reverberating down the narrow corridor, but this time the gait was slow and purposeful.  Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes and waited.  He let out a soft cry of surprise when Henry Henderson appeared and stood in front of his cell.  The old man’s appearance took him completely by surprise and he sat staring at his guardian, unable to speak.

Reaching an arm through the bars, Henry instructed gently, “Come here boy.”

Tom rose to his feet and walked slowly over to the front of his cell.  When he was close enough, Henry placed the palm of his callused hand on Tom’s smooth cheek.  “Got yourself in a bit of trouble hey lad,” he murmured quietly, “But don’t worry, Mother an’ me will sort it out.”

Tom stared at Henry in disbelief.  “Why?” he asked softly, “All I’ve done is cause you trouble.  You and Aunty Lou would be better off without me.”

Henry smiled in his slow, pleasant way.  “Caused a bit of trouble meself, back in the day,” he muttered, “Took meeting a good woman ‘fore I straightened out.  You’ve got yourself a goodun in that Dennis.  Maybe you should go to him with your troubles ‘stead of using your fists to fix your problems.”

Tom lowered his gaze and mumbled, “He called me a faggot.  I hate that word.”

Henry’s watery eyes softened.  “It’s a vile word for sure, but that ain’t no reason to beat someone to a pulp now is it lad.  I’m guessing there’s a lot more going on in that head of yours than just some name callin’.  Am I right?”

Tom’s lower lip began to tremble as he fought back tears.  “My brother Doug, I have to go back and find him but how do I ask Dennis to come with me, he loves it here.”

“Silly boy,” Henry murmured quietly, “Course young Denny will go with you.  An’ when you find that brother of yours, you bring him back here an’ life goes on.  Only difference will be one more for dinner.”

Staring back at Henry with wide eyes, Tom felt overwhelmed with love for the old man.  “You want me back?  Me _and_ Doug?” he asked disbelievingly.  “Uncle Henry, I don’t know what to say, what you’ve done for me and Dennis it’s—”

“Hush boy, I don’t take too well to praise an’ anyway, I’m pretty sure Mother would have my hide if I gave up on you,” Henry laughed.  “But first things first.  We need to fix this mess with the Harris boy.  Let me speak to Harris senior, see what I can do.  Meantime, you sit tight an’ don’t worry.”

“What about school?” Tom mumbled, certain that he had been expelled.

Scratching his head, Henry replied, “Mother an’ I have a meeting with Principal Cowan in the morning.  Figure between the two of us we can assure him you won’t cause no more trouble.” 

“Oh,” Tom replied quietly, “So I have to go back?”

“That’s the rules lad, you know it an’ I know it,” Henry answered in a soft voice.

Tom nodded.  “When can I go home?  I want to be with Dennis.”

“Soon lad, very soon,” Henry reassured him.  He gently ruffled Tom’s hair before turning and walking slowly away.

**

Two hours later and Tom was able to leave the police station.  Henry had spoken to Dan Harris, Jarrod’s father and after gaining testimony from Becca Ellis that Jarrod had thrown the first punch and had taunted Tom about his sexuality, Mr. Harris agreed not to press charges.  Booker and Tom sat silently as Henry drove them home in his old dodge truck.  When they arrived at the barn, they found that Louisa had left plates of chicken and vegetables warming in their oven.  Neither boy was hungry but they sat at the table, silently picking at their food.  With a loud sigh, Tom pushed his plate away and addressed Booker quietly, “We need to talk.”

Nodding, Booker stood up and taking Tom by the hand, he led him over to the couch.  Stretching out, he pulled Tom down next to him so that he could cradle his lover in his arms.  “What’s up?” he asked quietly, gently stroking Tom’s head which lay on his chest.  “Henry’s fixed everything, you don’t have to worry anymore.  And I’m sure the school won’t expel you, not after all the abuse you’ve had to put up with.”

Tom’s index finger traced a circle around Dennis’ taut stomach.  Even though Henry had assured him that Booker would stand by his side, he was still nervous.  He shifted his head so he could gaze into Booker’s dark eyes.  “You love me right?” he murmured as his hand slipped under Dennis’ shirt so he could feel the muscled body beneath his fingertips.

Kissing Tom on the forehead, Booker smiled.  “You know I do, so how ‘bout you tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s about Doug,” Tom whispered as he moved his hand down and slipped it inside the waistband of Dennis’ jeans.

“Whoa,” Booker said, pulling Tom’s hand out.  “If you’ve got something to say Tommy, just say it.  Don’t use sex to try and get me on your good side.”

“Wasn’t,” Tom pouted, lowering his gaze, “I just wanna touch you.  We haven’t done much of that lately.”

Dennis was about to say that it was Tom who had withheld sex not him but he caught himself just in time.  He understood the difficulties Tom had been through concerning his sexuality and the teasing at school and therefore he had remained patient and calm when Tom had withdrawn from his advances.  Now he was worried that Tom had reverted to his old ways of trying to manipulate him using sex.  Sighing, he tilted Tom’s chin upwards so he could study his face.  “No we haven’t but it can wait.  Let’s talk about Doug okay?”

Tom nodded.  He laid his palm down flat on Booker’s stomach so he could feel the steady rise and fall of his abdomen as he breathed.  He found the movement comforting and taking in a deep breath, he voiced his plan, “You probably didn’t realize but Doug’s due to be released.  I want to go home and find him and I want you to come with me.”

A huge grin split Booker’s face.  “Jesus Tommy, is that all?  Of course I’ll go with you, what made you think that I wouldn’t”

“I dunno,” Tom mumbled, feeling a little stupid for not trusting that Booker would do anything for him.  “I just know how much you like it here and—”

“But we’re coming back,” Dennis interrupted quickly.  “I mean, we find Doug and we come back, that’s the plan, right?”

Smiling, Tom nuzzled into Booker’s neck.  “That’s the plan.  I spoke to Henry and he and Louisa are happy for Doug to come and live here.  They can’t afford to employ him but they’re certain someone in the area will.  Jesus Dennis, this is gonna be so good.  We’ll be like a real family.”

“We’re already a real family Tommy,” Booker murmured as he kissed the top of Tom’s head.  “You and me, remember?”

“Sooo,” Tom whispered playfully, his fingers finding their way back down to Booker’s groin, “Can we have sex now or do you wanna keep talking?”

“Sex,” Booker grinned as he pressed his lips against Tom’s.  

Tom raised his eyebrow and gave Dennis a cheeky look.  “Is that right?” he asked, squeezing Dennis’ crotch lightly as he seductively sucked on Booker’s lower lip.  “ What have you got in mind?”  

Parting his lips, Dennis, allowed Tom access.  Their tongues intertwined and Dennis moaned deep into his lover’s mouth as his erection grew under the touch of Tom’s skillful fingers.  Breaking their kiss, his mouth found Tom’s earlobe and as he nipped and sucked, he whispered hoarsely, “I want you to ride me.”

Tom’s hand immediately stilled and he propped himself up on one arm so he could look down on his lover.  “Dennis I…” His voice trailed off, unable to tell his boyfriend that he still felt uncomfortable adopting what he conceived to be a traditional female position.  

Although disappointed, Booker immediately reassured Tom.  “It’s okay baby, maybe another time.  We’ll do whatever you want.”

Looking down into Dennis’ handsome, caring face, Tom felt incredible selfish.  Booker gave him so much and in return, he gave so little.  Back when he had poured his heart out about how Robbie Werner had made him get on top, Booker had assured him that it was something that guys did sometimes and it did not mean that being on top made you more feminine.  He loved Dennis with all his heart and he wanted to prove it.  Swallowing deeply, he gave Booker a cheeky grin.  “I dunno, I guess it kinda sounds like fun.”

Booker’s eyes searched Tom’s face, trying to read his mood.  “Are you sure, ‘cause we don’t—”

“I said yes Dennis,” Tom whispered as he leaned forward and kissed his lover.  “I love you and I want to do this for you.”

Booker’s dark eyes flashed with desire.  “This is gonna be so good,” he murmured, his hands playing lightly over Tom’s body, “I’m gonna make you scream.”

“Yeah?” Tom murmured back, his cock beginning to twitch.  “Show me.”

Sitting up, Booker took Tom’s hand and together they walked into the bedroom.  They undressed each other slowly, taking time to kiss and fondle each other.  Dennis studied Tom’s bruised and bloodied knuckles.  “Do they hurt?” he asked as he pressed his lips gently against the damaged flesh.  Tom shook his head; until Dennis had mentioned it, he had been completely unaware of any pain.  “C’mon,” Booker murmured excitedly, his cock already aching with arousal.  “I wanna feel you on top of me.”

Tom lay on the bed and bent up his knees, opening his legs wide.  He moaned loudly as Booker covered a finger in lube and slowly entered his body, preparing him for what was to come.  Dennis took his time, opening Tom up, enjoying the sight of Tom’s cock growing from the stimulation.  When he felt Tom was ready, he lay on his back.  “Get me hard,” he instructed in a low voice.

Tom sat up and straddled Booker’s legs.  He gently tugged and stroked at Dennis’ erection.  Once fully erect, he expertly rolled a black condom onto Booker’s cock and smeared it with lubrication.  Gazing down at his lover, Tom smiled nervously.  Booker’s eyes softened when he saw Tom’s expression.  “Have you changed your mind baby?” he asked, “It’s okay if you have.”

Smiling, Tom shook his head.  “I was just thinking how gorgeous you are,” he murmured, “And how much I love you.”

Booker’s dark eyes shimmered with tears.  “I love you to baby.  Let me show you how much.”  He laid his hands on either side of Tom’s waist and gently coaxed him so he was kneeling over him.  “Scoot forward,” he instructed, guiding Tom until he was kneeling above his throbbing erection.  “Ready?” he asked softly, his breathing rapidly increasing at the anticipation of his cock entering Tom’s body.

Wide eyed, Tom nodded.  Booker held on to the base of his cock and gently guided Tom’s body down until he could feel the tip of his erection against Tom’s hole.  “Push down slowly,” he panted, his eyes glinting with desire.  He moaned loudly as his cock pushed past the tight ring of muscle and into Tom’s hot body.  He used his hands to lift and lower Tom slowly, groaning each time his cock impaled deep inside his lover.  Tom leaned forward slightly and placed his hands on Booker’s smooth chest, using his legs to raise his body up and down, desperate for Dennis’ cock to find his spot.  Shifting his position slightly, his eyes flew open as a jolt of pleasure shot through his body.  “There!” he cried as he began to move his body faster.  

Dennis grinned wildly as Tom slammed his body down onto his cock.  “That’s my baby,” he gasped as his fingers found Tom’s weeping cock.  “Scream for me.”

Tom panted heavily as his body rode up and down on top of Booker.  “So good… fuck… so good… make me come… oh Dennis… oh fuck… I’m gonna… oh fuck… please… I WANNA… I’M COMING… OH FUCK… OH _FUUUCK_ … _FUUUCK!”_

Warm semen covered Booker’s hand as Tom released his orgasm.  Booker’s dark eyes flashed bright as he once again put both hands on Tom’s hips and slammed him up and down on his cock.  It only took a few seconds before he shouted out Tom’s name as he too climaxed.  He gripped Tom’s hips as he shuddered deep inside his lover’s body.  When he was finally spent, he gently lifted Tom off his softening erection and pulled him down on top of him so he could kiss him lovingly.  “Okay baby?” he murmured against Tom’s mouth.

“Hell yeah,” Tom replied with a laugh as he rolled off Booker and lay on his back, panting heavily.  “That was fucking amazing.”

Pulling off his condom, Booker threw it on the floor before rolling over and snuggling up to his lover.  “Told you so,” he teased before turning serious.  “So tomorrow we start planning, okay?  We’re gonna go and find your brother.”

“Okay,” Tom replied sleepily.  “I love you Dennis.”

“I love you too Tommy,” Booker replied and pulling his lover close, he pushed away the worrying thoughts about returning to Tom’s hometown and finally facing his abusive father.  



	31. Facing the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: Warm semen covered Booker’s hand as Tom released his orgasm.  Booker’s dark eyes flashed bright as he once again put both hands on Tom’s hips and slammed him up and down on his cock.  It only took a few seconds before he shouted out Tom’s name as he too climaxed.  He gripped Tom’s hips as he shuddered deep inside his lover’s body.  When he was finally spent, he gently lifted Tom off his softening erection and pulled him down on top of him so he could kiss him lovingly.  “Okay baby?” he murmured against Tom’s mouth._
> 
> _“Hell yeah,” Tom replied with a laugh as he rolled off Booker and lay on his back, panting heavily.  “That was fucking amazing.”_
> 
> _Pulling off his condom, Booker threw it on the floor before rolling over and snuggling up to his lover.  “Told you so,” he teased before turning serious.  “So tomorrow we start planning, okay?  We’re gonna go and find your brother.”_
> 
> _“Okay,” Tom replied sleepily.  “I love you Dennis.”_
> 
> _“I love you too Tommy,” Booker replied and pulling his lover close, he pushed away the worrying thoughts about returning to Tom’s hometown and finally facing his abusive father.  
> _

[**Facing the Past**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=31) 

Returning to school had not turned into the nightmare Tom had convinced himself it would be.  Principal Cowan had agreed to let Tom return on a six-month probationary agreement on the proviso that he maintained a 2.5 GPA and stayed out of trouble.  Surprisingly, Tom found that many of the students welcomed him back without ever alluding to his sexual orientation or the fact that he had beaten Jarrod Harris to a bloody pulp.  Having broken up with Jarrod, Becca had once again begged Tom’s forgiveness and they slowly started to repair their damaged relationship by hanging out together with her friends.  Tom refused her offer to tutor him, still not completely comfortable with spending time alone with her.  Jarrod had returned to school several weeks later and had publicly apologized to Tom for his homophobic remarks.  Tom was somewhat surprised but he later heard through the school grape vine that it was a condition of Jarrod’s re-admittance back to Lillydale High.  Not long after Tom’s return, the school began to implement a tough, zero tolerance anti bullying policy, all of which made Tom somewhat of a  hero in the eyes of those who had endured years of teasing just because their peers labeled them as _different_.

The downside to his return was that Tom started to struggle with his schoolwork, mostly due to sleepless nights and an inner turmoil at the prospect of facing his father.  But he remained doggedly determined, spending night after night at the kitchen table, pouring over his books.  He told Booker that he owed it to the Hendersons to do his best as they had refused to give up on him and he did not want to let them down again.  Henry and Louisa had discussed with Ernest Cowan Tom’s desire to find his brother and the Principal agreed to give Tom special leave so he could return west and reconnect with his sibling.  

As the time drew nearer for his and Booker’s journey, Tom found himself becoming nervous and agitated.  To find Doug he needed to contact Aaron and the thought made him physically sick.  Memories of his rapes came flooding back and he frequently suffered horrendous nightmares.  Many nights he woke screaming, his body drenched in sweat as he fought off an imaginary attacker.  Booker had wanted to confide in Henry and Louisa in the hope of getting Tom some psychological help but his young lover refused, too ashamed to admit that he was once again unable to cope.  Dennis did his best to comfort Tom but he felt ill equipped to deal with the level of emotional scarring Tom suffered from.  All he could do was hold his lover in his arms night after night and reassure him that he would never let Aaron hurt him again.

A month after his arrest, Tom stood on the platform of the train station, nervously chewing at his fingernails.  Booker stood a few feet away, chatting to Henry and Louisa.  The elderly couple had insisted on driving the boys so they could see them safely on the train.  Glancing over at Tom, Booker could see the dark smudges under his lover’s eyes, a sign that he had not been sleeping well.  It broke his heart to see his beloved Tom in such a distressed state and he hoped that the meeting with Tom’s father would not prove too much for his boyfriend to cope with.  Dennis’ greatest fear was that Tom’s fragile emotional state would crack under the stress.  It was a bittersweet situation, Tom and Doug would be together again but the only way it would happen was for Tom to face up to Aaron.

As the train pulled into the station, Tom’s eyes darted over to where Booker was standing.  He had already said his goodbyes to Henry and Louisa, knowing that he would be unable to contain his emotions and not wanting to make a public spectacle of himself.  He watched as the elderly couple gave Booker a hug and he managed to raise his hand in a quick wave before quickly turning away and stepping onto the train.  He felt an arm around his waist and turning, he saw Dennis give him a reassuring smile.  “Okay baby?” Booker asked softly.

Tom nodded, not trusting himself to speak without crying.  They walked down the corridor in search of their sleeper.  They would spend two nights on the train and Booker had suggested that it would be in their best interest to have a bed to sleep in rather than try to sleep in a seat.  He was concerned about Tom’s nightmares and wanted privacy so he could console his lover if necessary. 

Opening the door, they maneuvered themselves into the tiny space.  The room consisted of two beds, one above the other, a toilet, sink and shower.  The lower berth converted into a couch and there was room underneath to store their two bags.  Booker tossed his holdall onto the upper bunk before taking Tom’s bag from him and placing it on the lower berth.  He waited for Tom to speak but his lover stood mutely, staring into space with a dazed look on his face.  Booker placed his arms around Tom and pulled him into a gentle hug.  It took several moments before Tom wrapped his arms around Dennis and rested his head against his chest.  Neither boy spoke for several minutes until Booker pulled away just enough so he could tilt up Tom’s chin.  He brushed aside Tom’s long bangs so he could gaze into his dark brown eyes.  “You know I won’t let him hurt you, right?” he murmured as he stroked Tom’s face.  “We find Doug and we leave, end of story.”

Managing a weak smile, Tom nodded.  “Okay,” he muttered as he picked up his bag and threw it onto the floor before lying down on the lower bunk and turning to face the wall.

With a sigh, Booker pushed both bags under the bed and climbed onto the top berth.  He heard the drone of the train’s engines starting up and he looked at his watch.  It was only six-thirty in the evening but it appeared that Tom had settled down for the night.  Clambering back down, Dennis opened his bag and pulled out his book before again settling himself on the top bunk.  As the train slowly began to move, he hung his head over the edge of the bed and peered down at Tom.  There was no movement from the lower bed so he lay back down and lost himself in his novel.

**

Booker jerked awake, the sound of Tom’s screaming ringing in his ears.  Disorientated, he fell from the top bunk onto the floor, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.  Groaning, he stood up and rubbed at his elbow as he limped over to Tom, who was thrashing wildly in his sleep, screaming “NO! NO! NO! NO! _NOOO!”_   Knowing better than to touch Tom and risk being mistaken as his attacker, Dennis sat on the bed and spoke Tom’s name repeatedly, telling him that it was okay and that he needed to wake up.  

When Tom’s tortured eyes finally opened, Booker lay down and pulled his sobbing lover into his arms. “Shh Tommy, it’s okay, I’m here,” he murmured as he held Tom’s trembling body.  It took nearly twenty minutes before Tom finally calmed down enough for Dennis to speak to him again.  “Are you all right?  Do you need anything?” he asked as he gently pushed Tom’s sweaty hair away from his face.

“Stay with me,” Tom whispered, “I don’t want to be alone.”

“Of course baby, whatever you need,” Booker replied before pressing his lips gently against Tom’s full pout.  Tom responded immediately by opening his mouth, wanting Dennis to give him more.  Booker kissed him slowly and tenderly as his fingers toyed with Tom’s hair.

“Make me forget,” Tom moaned into his lover’s mouth, pushing Dennis’ hand downwards.

“Tell me what you want,” Booker whispered huskily, desperate to help Tom stop thinking about what lay ahead.

“Play with me,” groaned Tom quietly, “Make me come.”

Shifting his position slightly, Booker unbuttoned Tom’s jeans and carefully pulled down the zipper before reaching inside his boxers and releasing Tom’s cock.  As he caressed and tugged at Tom’s growing erection, he whispered in his lover’s ear, “Do you like that baby?”

“Yesss,” Tom hissed, as hips jerked upwards, “Harder.”

“Like this?” Booker murmured as his hand moved faster.

“Oh God!” Tom uttered, his pupils dilating with arousal.  “Oh fuck!”

Dennis nibbled on Tom’s earlobe as he muttered, “Are you gonna come for me beautiful?”

“Oh Dennis I’m close!’ Tom panted as his hips continued to thrust into the air.  “Oh please Dennis, _harder!”_

Smiling, Booker worked his fist over Tom’s erection.  A minute later, Tom screamed as he shot his orgasm over Dennis’ fingers.  Slowing his pace, Booker gently fondled Tom’s cock until it had softened.  He stared lovingly down at Tom’s misty eyes and tenderly kissed his forehead.  “Feeling better?”

Tom nodded, his expression now relaxed.  “Stay?” he murmured, wanting to feel the reassurance of Booker’s body next to him.

“Always,” Dennis replied with a smile.  “Now close your eyes and try to sleep, okay?”

Laying his head on Booker’s chest, Tom closed his tired eyes as the train steadily took him closer to the nightmare he would eventually have to face.  



	32. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: He stared lovingly down at Tom’s misty eyes and tenderly kissed his forehead.  “Feeling better?”_
> 
> _Tom nodded, his expression now relaxed.  “Stay?” he murmured, wanting to feel the reassurance of Booker’s body next to him._
> 
> _“Always,” Dennis replied with a smile.  “Now close your eyes and try to sleep, okay?”_
> 
> _Laying his head on Booker’s chest, Tom closed his tired eyes as the train steadily took him closer to the nightmare he would eventually have to face.  
> _

[**Reunion**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=32) 

After forty-one hours of travel, the train pulled into its final destination.  It was eleven-thirty in the morning and the sun was shining brightly.  Tom stared out of the train’s dirty window as Booker busied himself behind him, packing up their belongings.  They still had an hour’s bus ride to endure before they arrived at the town Tom used to call home.  

Feeling a light hand on his shoulder, Tom turned to face Booker.  “Ready?” Dennis asked, keeping his voice neutral so Tom would not detect the nerves that he too felt, now that they were almost at the end of their journey.

“I guess,” Tom muttered, bending down to pick up his bag.  He started to head for the door before stopping.  “It’s gonna be okay isn’t it?  I mean, we go to the house, get Doug and leave.  He won’t be able to stop us right?”

On the long train journey, Booker had given their situation a lot of thought.  It had finally occurred to him that they did not know for sure that Doug’s sentence was over.  The six-month period was up but if Doug had misbehaved during his incarceration, a judge could order extra time in detention.  Dennis had not wanted to worry Tom during the long, arduous train ride, but now that they were virtually on Aaron McQuaid’s doorstep, he felt Tom needed to be prepared.

“Sit down for a minute,” Booker instructed, keeping his voice light.

“Why?” Tom asked suspiciously as his eyes narrowed slightly.  “What’s wrong?”

Booker rubbed a hand over his tired eyes.  “I don’t want you to get upset okay, just listen to what I have to say.”

Tom took a seat and stared up at Dennis who remained standing.  “You’re starting to freak me out,” he laughed nervously.  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It may be nothing,” Booker started, hoping to reassure Tom with his tone.  “It’s just, we don’t know for certain that Doug’s been released yet.  So I was thinking, is there anyone you trust that we could talk to, you know, to find out if they’ve heard anything.”

Tom felt as though a knife had stabbed him in the heart.  He could not believe how stupid and naïve they had been.  They had traveled across the country without bothering to verify that Doug had indeed, been released.  He did not even know for sure that his father still lived in the same house.  Given Aaron’s tendency to spend the rent money on alcohol, there was a high probability that the property owner had kicked him out long ago.

Tom’s eyes filled with tears.  “Oh God,” he whispered, “I might never find Doug.”

Kneeling down in front of Tom, Booker took hold of his hands.  “No baby, that’s not what I’m saying.  The authorities will know where he is.  I just think it would be better if we knew for sure that Doug was living with your Dad.  No point in going there otherwise, huh?”

It took several minutes for Tom to digest Dennis’ words.  It was true, there was no need for him to go and see his Dad if Doug was not even living there.  He closed his eyes and thought hard about whom they could contact about his brother’s whereabouts.  Slowly, a long forgotten name entered his mind.  “There was this teacher, Mr. Fuller.  If he’s still at the school I know I could trust him to help us out.”

Booker visibly relaxed.  “There you go, problem solved,” he smiled.  “C’mon, let’s get out and stretch our legs before we have to sit on a bus for an hour.”

Checking the tiny room one last time to make sure they had left nothing behind, the boys exited the train.

**

As their bus neared the McQuaids’ old neighborhood, Tom stared silently out of the window as the knot in his stomach tightened.  He felt physically ill and hoped that he would be able to keep down the sandwich he had eaten.  When they drove past the park where Tom had spent the night in the enclosed play tower, he felt tears prick at his eyes.  He felt so sad for that scared, lonely boy.  But so much had changed since that fateful night.  He had Booker and the Hendersons in his life now and in a few short hours, he would hopefully also have Doug.  

Their bus began to slow down as it approached Tom’s old school.  Clenching his fists, Tom attempted to calm his jangling nerves.  “This is it,” he muttered to Dennis.

Grabbing their bags, the boys exited the bus and stood on the pavement, staring at the large, gray building.  Booker glanced at his watch and saw that it was past lunchtime and classes would have resumed.  “What do you wanna do?” he asked.  “We’ve a few hours to kill before school gets out.”

Now that he was standing in the place where his old life had ended, Tom felt an unexpected surge of strength course through his body and his fears quickly evaporated.  His father had no hold over him, not now that he had people in his life who loved and cared about him.  He knew that Henry and Louisa would fight in court if they had to, to keep him with them.  There was nothing left to be afraid of and Aaron McQuaid was nothing to him anymore.  He considered his father as dead as his dear mother was, buried deep underground, never to be in his life again.  A slow smile spread across his face and he turned to face his lover.  “We’re gonna go get Doug,” he replied, “And if he isn’t with my Dad, we won’t leave until he tells us where he is.”

Booker’s chest swelled with love and pride for his beautiful Tommy.  Stepping forward, he cupped Tom’s face in his hands and pressed his lips against his lover’s.  “I’m so proud of you baby,” he murmured softly.

A pink flush warmed Tom’s cheeks.  “I couldn’t do any of his without you by my side.  We’re a team, remember?”

Booker laughed.  “Yeah we are.  C’mon, let’s go find your brother.”

**

Standing at the bottom of the driveway, Tom stared at the rundown two-storey house that had been his home for less than two weeks.  From the ages of nine to fifteen, he had lived in twelve different houses and none of them had ever felt like home.  In contrast, he and Booker had only lived at the Henderson’s farm for three months and for Tom, it had felt like home from the first week they had arrived.  Henry and Louisa had treated him as one of their own from the moment he set foot over their threshold.  They had shown him love and support along with gentle discipline to help keep him on the right path.  Aaron had contributed nothing to Tom’s welfare and upbringing except to instill fear and emotional scarring that would last a lifetime.  For a moment Tom wondered how his life would be if he had not made the decision to run away six months ago.  A cold shiver ran down his spine and he pushed the thought aside.  It did not matter anymore, he was finally free of the abuse and that was all he cared about.

His nervousness had returned but he felt no fear.  Turning to Booker, who had been silently watching him, he gave a wry smile.  “C’mon, let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

Together they walked up the driveway.  Standing at the front door, Tom nervously wiped his palms on his jeans and rang the doorbell.  Beethoven’s 9th chimed loudly, the choice of chimes seemingly inappropriate given the horrors that had occurred behind the thick, damp walls.  Clenching and unclenching his fists, Tom could hear footsteps inside and an unidentified voice yelled out, “Hang on, I’m coming.”

The battered wooden door flew open and Doug stared out through the rusty screen door.  “If you’re selling anything we’re not… Oh my God… _Tommy!”_

The door flew back on its hinges and Doug grabbed Tom in a bear-like hug, squeezing him hard.  “I can’t believe it!  I thought I’d never see you again!  Oh my God Tom, you’re home!”

Struggling for breath, Tom motioned for Doug to let him go.  With a lopsided smile, Doug obliged and stepping back, he looked Tom up and down.  “Jeez Tommy, where the hell have you been?  We’ve been worried sick about you, not knowing if you were dead or alive.”

Tom’s expression hardened.  “ _We’ve_ been worried sick?  You can’t mean that _Dad_ gave a rat’s ass about where I’ve been except that he had no-one to molest whilst I was gone.”

Doug’s face paled.  “Tommy it’s not like that now, he’s changed.  He’s been freaking out.  Honest, he’s been so worried about you and—”

“DON’T LIE TO ME!” Tom yelled.  “The last thing he did to me before I left was _RAPE ME!_   How can you defend him when you hate him as much as I do?”

Nervously looking over Tom’s shoulder to see if any neighbors were listening to their argument, Doug’s eyes met Dennis’ and he stared at him as his eyes narrowed, “Who the hell are you?”

Before Dennis could reply, Tom answered, “His name’s Dennis and he’s… he’s my boyfriend.”

Doug stared back open mouthed.  His eyes traveled from Tom to Dennis and back again.  “He’s your _what?”_

“Boyfriend,” Tom replied assertively.  “I met him on the streets and we’ve been together ever since.”

Running his fingers through his hair, Doug struggled to think of something to say.  He had dreamed of the day when his little brother would return home but so far, none of it was going the way he had imagined.  Realizing that Tom was waiting for him to say something, he gave a half smile.  “Well that’s great Tommy, um, maybe you and your… um, Dennis should come inside so we can talk.”

“Is _he_ in there?” Tom asked, peering into the darkened house.  

Shaking his head, Doug stood aside so the two younger boys could enter.  Déjà vu hit Tom like a freight train and he shivered violently.  He reached back and found Booker’s hand and he relaxed slightly when his lover gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.  They followed Doug into the dimly lit living room and sat down on the couch, their fingers firmly entwined.  Doug stared at them, his expression somewhat disturbed.  Tom sighed heavily.  This was not turning into the reunion he had hoped for.  “Does this bother you?” he asked bluntly, as he lifted up his and Booker’s hand.

“No Tommy,” Doug replied hurriedly, “It’s just… were you gay before you left?”

Tom became impatient.  “For fuck’s sake Doug, I don’t want to talk about this now, I want to talk about us!  I’ve come back because I want you to come and live with me and Dennis.  We’ve got a great life now living with this elderly couple on a farm and they—”

The sound of the front door slamming stopped Tom mid sentence and fear filled his eyes.  He turned towards the doorway, his expression full of horror as Aaron McQuaid walked into the room.

 


	33. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Previously: “Is he in there?” Tom asked, peering into the darkened house._
> 
> _Shaking his head, Doug stood aside so the two younger boys could enter.  Déjà vu hit Tom like a freight train and he shivered violently.  He reached back and found Booker’s hand and he relaxed slightly when his lover gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze.  They followed Doug into the dimly lit living room and sat down on the couch, their fingers firmly entwined.  Doug stared at them, his expression somewhat disturbed.  Tom sighed heavily.  This was not turning into the reunion he had hoped for.  “Does this bother you?” he asked bluntly, as he lifted up his and Booker’s hand._
> 
> _“No Tommy,” Doug replied hurriedly, “It’s just… were you gay before you left?”_
> 
> _Tom became impatient.  “For fuck’s sake Doug, I don’t want to talk about this now, I want to talk about us!  I’ve come back because I want you to come and live with me and Dennis.  We’ve got a great life now living with this elderly couple on a farm and they—”_
> 
> _The sound of the front door slamming stopped Tom mid sentence and fear filled his eyes.  He turned towards the doorway, his expression full of horror as Aaron McQuaid walked into the room._

[**Choices**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=33) 

Aaron McQuaid stared at the couch where his youngest son sat, unable to believe what he was seeing.  “Tommy!” he whispered, holding out his arms as though expecting Tom to jump up and embrace him.  “Thank God you’re home.”

Tom sat frozen in fear, unable to voice his horror at seeing his father again.  Booker stood up and slowly pulled Tom to his feet before standing in front of him in an effort to shield him from any contact with Aaron.  “Lay a hand on him and I’ll kill you,” Dennis warned, his tone relaying the hatred he felt for the man standing before him.

Aaron turned his eyes to Doug.  “Who the hell is that?” he asked, motioning towards Booker.

Doug chewed nervously on his lower lip.  “His name’s Dennis, he’s Tommy’s friend.”

“ _BOY_ FRIEND!” Tom suddenly yelled.  “Dennis is my _boy_ friend.  He’s the one who found me when I was alone on the streets.  He took me in, he helped me and I _love_ him!”

“Whoa son, calm down,” Aaron soothed.  “Let’s sit down and talk about it.”

Tom shot his father a look that was so full of hatred that Aaron actually took a few steps back.  “I have _nothing_ to say to you, you son-of-a-bitch,” Tom murmured.  “You took my innocence from me and I’ll never, ever forgive you.”

“Tommy!” Aaron cried, his face twisting in anguish at the harsh words.  “I’m sorry!  I didn’t—”

“You’re _SORRY?”_ Tom yelled, pushing past Booker so he was standing only inches from his father.  “You _RAPED_ me you bastard!  For years and years you fucking beat me and raped me and now you’re _sorry?”_   Tom let out a loud bitter laugh.  “Well I guess that makes it all okay then.  Yeah _Dad_ , let’s be best friends now that you’re _sorry_.  All is fucking forgiven.”

Turning away, Tom took hold of Booker’s hand.  “We’re leaving.  Doug, if you wanna talk then come with us, ‘cause I’m not spending another second breathing the same air as this pedophile.”

Booker smiled proudly as he followed Tom out of the house and into the clean, warm air.  He felt an enormous relief when Doug exited the house a few moments later.  The three teenagers walked down the road to the park where Doug and Tom used to spend their nights when escaping the wrath of their father.  Tom climbed up onto the picnic table and sat cross-legged on the rough, chipped surface.  Doug sat down on the attached bench but Dennis remained standing.  Taking Tom’s hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze.  “I’m gonna go for a walk, give you two a chance to talk, okay?”

Tom nodded silently as he pulled Dennis in for a quick kiss.  Doug cleared his throat noisily, embarrassed at the public display of affection his brother was showing towards another male.  Breaking apart, Booker held out his hand to Doug.  “Great to finally meet you.  I hope you’ll consider what Tommy has to say.”

“Yeah, you too,” Doug muttered, shaking Dennis’ hand lightly but unable to meet his gaze.  When Dennis was out of earshot, Doug turned his attentions to Tom.  “Jesus Christ Tommy, what the hell is going on?  You disappear for six-months and then you turn up with some guy and tell me he’s your _boyfriend!_   This is crazy!  You’re not gay!”

Staring down at his brother, Tom’s eyes filled with sadness.  “Out of everything that’s happened, _that’s_ what bothers you?” he asked quietly.  “I’ve been through hell Doug.  I ended up in a city with no money and I had to sell myself just so I could—”

“You were a _prostitute?”_ Doug exclaimed.  “So what, that Dennis guy was your _pimp?”_

Uncontrollable anger rushed through Tom’s veins and he hurled himself at Doug, knocking him to the ground.  He managed to get in one good punch before Doug overpowered him and he found himself lying on his back with his arms pinned above his head and Doug’s heavy frame preventing him from moving.  “Calm down,” Doug instructed, as Tom writhed beneath him.  “I don’t wanna hurt you Tommy but I will if you don’t calm down.”

Seething that his brother had managed to get the better of him, Tom continued to struggle until he slowly realized that it was a pointless exercise, Doug outweighed him by at least eighty pounds.  He stopped moving and stared up at Doug, scowling heavily.  “Okay, you can fucking get off me now.”

Standing up, Doug held out his hand but Tom ignored it, preferring to get to his feet without assistance.  He rubbed at the red marks on his wrists before climbing back onto the picnic table.  “He’s not my pimp,” he muttered, glaring angrily at his brother.  “I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for Booker.  He helped me through some pretty awful stuff Doug, but now we have a really good life and I want you to share it with me.”

“So what?  You and Dennis have shacked up and are living the American dream?  Come on Tommy, this isn’t you!” Doug replied, his frustration evident in his terse tone of voice.  

“What isn’t me?” Tom asked quietly.  “Being gay or being happy?”

Doug’s eyes softened and he pulled Tom into a hug.  “I didn’t mean that Tommy.  It’s just, things have changed for me too.  When you left, Dad lost it.  He felt responsible and it was what he needed to turn his life around.  He gave up the booze and he’s held a job for months now.  He even came to the family therapy sessions they held at juvy.  Seriously Tommy, he’s a different man he’s—”

“A child rapist,” Tom murmured softly as tears filled his eyes.  “Jesus Doug, how can you forget what he did to me?”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Doug muttered, his cheeks burning red, “But I think he was in a bad place when Mom died and he didn’t know what he was doing.”

Tom jumped down from the table and began to pace up and down in an agitated manner.  “Are you fucking kidding me?” he cried, as the tears he had so far managed to contain, slowly slid down his cheeks.  “I was _eleven_ Doug!  _Eleven!_   How can you justify what he did to me?  He stole my childhood and I don’t care how much he’s changed, I will _never, ever_ forgive him!”

Doug sat silently for several minutes before speaking, “So I guess that’s it huh?  You don’t want to come home and I don’t want to leave, at least not at the moment I don’t.”

“I guess so,” Tom replied gloomily.  “But if you change your mind, you can come anytime, no questions asked okay?”  He pulled the information card out of his wallet that contained Henry and Louisa’s address and phone number.  “Here,” he said, handing it to Doug.  “Just promise me you won’t give it to Dad, because I swear, if he comes anywhere near me, I’ll kill him.”

Tom’s words made Doug shudder.  Taking the card, he put it in his wallet.  “I promise,” he murmured and he gave his brother his lopsided smile.  “Are you really happy Tommy?” he asked softly, wiping the tears from Tom’s face.  “I mean, this Dennis guy, does he treat you good?”

Tom smiled broadly.  “He’s my world Doug and I couldn’t be happier.” 

The two brothers held each other close for several minutes before Doug turned silently away and left Tom sitting alone with only his thoughts for company.

 


	34. Carpe Diem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Well this is it, the final chapter and I actually feel quite sad letting these boys go :) I truly hope that you have enjoyed reading _"What Is and What Should Never Be"_  as much as I have enjoyed writing it and that this final chapter meets your expectations.**
> 
> _Previously: Doug sat silently for several minutes before speaking, “So I guess that’s it huh?  You don’t want to come home and I don’t want to leave, at least not at the moment I don’t.”_
> 
> _“I guess so,” Tom replied gloomily.  “But if you change your mind, you can come anytime, no questions asked okay?”  He pulled the information card out of his wallet that contained Henry and Louisa’s address and phone number.  “Here,” he said, handing it to Doug.  “Just promise me you won’t give it to Dad, because I swear, if he comes anywhere near me, I’ll kill him.”_
> 
> _Tom’s words made Doug shudder.  Taking the card, he put it in his wallet.  “I promise,” he murmured and he gave his brother his lopsided smile.  “Are you really happy Tommy?” he asked softly, wiping the tears from Tom’s face.  “I mean, this Dennis guy, does he treat you good?”_
> 
> _Tom smiled broadly.  “He’s my world Doug and I couldn’t be happier.”_
> 
> _The two brothers held each other close for several minutes before Doug turned silently away and left Tom sitting alone with only his thoughts for company._

[**Carpe Diem**](viewstory.php?sid=54574&chapter=34) 

Dennis walked into the town center and found a café.  He ordered a strong coffee and sat by the window watching the people walk leisurely back and forth, going about their daily business.  The scene was such a contrast to the busy inner city streets where he spent so many years fighting for survival.  He thought it would have been a nice town to grow up in but for Tommy, it had been a nightmare.  He was still trying to get his head around the scene at the house.  How Aaron McQuaid could have thought that Tom would forgive him was inconceivable to Booker.  Tom’s father obviously had no idea of the psychological damage he had caused his son.  Dennis knew that Tom still had many hurdles to face in his life and all because of one man’s transgressions.  But he also knew that whatever happened, he would be by Tom’s side, helping him through his trauma.  Their life together was just beginning and Dennis looked forward to showing Tommy the world and all the wonderful things it had to offer.

Checking his watch, he decided to find a place for him and Tom to spend the night.  He asked the helpful café manager and she directed him to The Pines Motel which was only a few blocks up the road.  He walked the short distance and paid for a single night.  He was glad to offload both his and Tom’s bags, which he had been carrying around since leaving the park.  He switched on the television and attempted to lose himself in the mind numbing banality of a daytime soap but he could not settle and he soon found himself nervously pacing the floor, wondering what was happening between Doug and Tom.  After their reunion at the house, Dennis did not feel optimistic that Doug would want to join them on the farm.  He only hoped that Tom would not take it too hard.  He knew his lover had counted down the days until his brother’s release, longing for the time that they would once again be reunited.  During the last few months, he knew Tom had imagined that he would be able to come back and offer Doug the dream life that the Hendersons had offered to the two of them.  But six months was a long time apart when you were a teenager and a lot could change.  During that time, Aaron McQuaid had obviously managed to claw his way back into Doug’s life and gained his trust.  But then Doug had never been treated as abhorrently by his father as Tom had.  He had received beatings but never the vile, sexual assaults that Aaron had inflicted upon his youngest son.  Without Tom there as a reminder, Booker assumed that it would have been easy for Aaron to manipulate Doug into believing that it was not his fault and Doug, stuck in juvenile detention, probably sought comfort from the only relative he had left.  That did not mean that Booker understood how Tom’s brother could have so easily been conned by his father, he did not.  But he guessed he was probably not the best person to pass judgment on the dynamics of the father/son relationship, given that he had grown up without his Dad since the age of nine.

Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Dennis turned off the television and left the motel.  He walked back along the wide leafy streets towards the park.  On the way he passed by the bottom of the McQuaids' road and for a moment he stood and stared at the neglected building that had been Tom’s home.  He was grateful that he had been able to see where Tom came from, even though the house had only been his home for a few weeks.  It was another piece of the Tommy puzzle and Booker enjoyed slotting the pieces together and getting a glimpse of the Tom of old.  He felt closer to Tom now than he ever had, just by being in the small, all American town.  Dennis knew Tom had spent all of his life in the surrounding neighborhoods and he closed his eyes and imagined Tom aged six, when life was still good, learning to ride a bike.  He pictured him falling off and skinning his knee, his full lower lip quivering as he tried not to cry in front of his big brother.  Tears filled Booker’s eyes and he allowed them to fall unchecked.  What he felt for Tom he had never before felt for another human being and he marveled at how wonderful it was and yet at the same time, so very painful, to have such deep feelings of love for another person.   

He gave the shabby house one final glance before continuing to walk.  He passed by Tom’s old school and again he stopped and leaned on the railing, imagining Tom sitting in a overcrowded classroom, sullenly refusing to participate in any lively class discussions.  He pictured Tom’s humiliation when his English teacher had confronted him about his illiteracy.  The thought immediately brought back memories of teaching Tom to read.  He thought it seemed like years ago since they sat in the small room of The Exeter hotel and he had patiently explained how various letter combinations formed certain sounds.  Tom had been a quick study and Dennis could remember feeling immense pride at how quickly Tom had learnt, given the situation of their lives.  

He let out a melancholy sigh then grinned to himself for being such a sentimental fool.  When he was a small boy, his mother used to say, _“Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God.”_   He never really understood it at the time but now he knew exactly what his mother meant and in a way, it gave an insight into her own behavior after his father left.  There was no point in looking back and you never really knew what the future held, so living for today was the only real option you had.  Carpe diem, _seize the day_.   They were words Dennis hoped he could teach Tom to live by.

With that thought, Booker turned and walked the last few blocks back to the playground.  As he rounded the corner, he saw Tom sitting motionless on a child’s swing and his heart sank, as he knew that Doug would not be coming with them back to the farm.  Gathering his thoughts, he made his way slowly over to his lover.  When Tom did not look up, Dennis squatted on the ground in front of him and laid his palms on Tom’s thighs.  “I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered softly.  “I’m so _fucking_ sorry.”

Tom lifted his tear stained face and gave Booker a watery smile.  “It doesn’t matter.  I don’t belong here, not anymore and I don’t think Doug belongs with us.”

“Maybe you’re right baby,” Dennis agreed, as he wiped the tears from Tom’s cheek with the ball of his thumb.  “And I don’t think you _ever_ belonged here.  You belong with me and I only wish I’d found you sooner.”

“I wish you had too,” Tom murmured and leaning forward, he kissed Dennis tenderly before slowly pulling apart.  “Doug’s changed so much, he doesn’t seem to want to remember all the suffering we went through.”

Booker sat back on his heels and carefully thought out his reply.  “Maybe that’s a good thing.  You know, putting things behind you can help you heal.”

“You think I should forgive my father for what he did to me?” Tom asked incredulously.  “Jesus Dennis, I thought you of all people would—”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Booker quickly interjected.  “I hate your father as much as you do Tommy and he should be in prison for what he did to you.  All I’m saying is that holding on to the hatred and the anger is only going to hurt _you_.  I want you free from all that pain.  And maybe Doug not coming with us is a way for you to move on.  You can truly start your life over.”

“Do you really think so?” Tom asked quietly, tears once again welling in his soft, brown eyes.  “I thought he and I would be together always.  I never imagined my life without him.”

Dennis gave a comforting smile.  “And yet you survived six months without him Tommy.  You need to start spreading those wings and you need to realize that you are more than capable of making your own decisions without your brother.  Never forget what your father did to you and sure as hell never forgive it but push it back into the past, okay?  If Doug wants to stay, let him stay.  Forget about this place, this is no longer your life.  You have so much more to look forward to back east.  There are people there who love you and can’t wait to have you back home.  Start living for the now Tommy and I promise you, life will get easier.”

Standing up, Tom pulled Booker to his feet and wrapping his arms around his lover, he kissed him slowly and lovingly.  “The best day of my life was the day you followed me into that alleyway,” he murmured against Dennis’ lips.

Booker smiled as he gently stroked Tom’s hair.  “And there’ll be plenty more of those days Tommy, just you wait and see.”

“I _love_ you Dennis Patrick Booker,” Tom murmured.

“And I love _you_ , Thomas James McQuaid,” Booker replied lovingly.  “C’mon let’s call Henry and Louisa and let them know when we’ll be back.”

Tom smiled contentedly.  He had been through so much in his short life but he was a survivor.  Booker was right, he needed to let go of all the anguish he had suffered and live only in the present.  He loved Doug dearly and always would, but he understood that he needed to walk away and leave the past behind him.  He had Dennis and the Hendersons in his life now and that was all the family he needed.  

Taking Booker by the hand, they left the park.  As they walked down the familiar streets of his past, Tom felt a huge weight lifting off his shoulders.  He was finally leaving the memories of his childhood behind him and in doing so, he was free to become a man.

_Finis_

 

 


End file.
